Get Wrecked
by HonorarySistersForever
Summary: A young saboteur steps into a new family just as the old one comes crashing down behind him. A disillusioned soldier finds new motivation to soften old grudges. Rated for robogore and substitute words.
1. Anfang

**Chapter One: Wheeljack**

A life on the go is the life for me. Free to drive lonely highways, feel the wind over my hood and the asphalt under my tires: that's where I belong. It feels good. I overtook the car ahead of me and accelerated, pushing the limits of my engine. This alt is pretty sleek for a human contraption. Streamlined and tough—like it's meant for my frame. Ratchet can say what he likes about humans, but they've got a great selection of vehicles ready for the scanning.

The sun was getting pretty low. I decided it was time I headed back. I gunned my engine and turned off the road, driving over the fields until I reached the cover of the woods, where I could transform back to root mode without being seen. I made my way through the undergrowth to my ship.

"Hey, darlin'. Miss me?" I ran a servo over one of the _Jackhammer_ 's wings before cuing it to open the gangplank. The ramp closed behind me once I was inside, and I grabbed a cube of energon from my stock before settling into my chair with a long vent.

I didn't notice falling into recharge, but when I woke up, something seemed _off_. It took a moment to register that the lighting had dimmed and that the "refuel needed" signal was flashing on the control panel.

Odd. Jackhammer had had a full tank this morning, and we hadn't been flying today. How did all that energon get used up so suddenly?

I stood up from my seat and swept my empty cube into the disposal unit. The sound of the ramp lowering probably alerted anyone in the area to my presence, but that couldn't be helped. I patted the grenade at my hip and slipped outside.

The moon was up. Beams of light showed between the trees surrounding the _Jackhammer_. A sort of trickling sound reached my audials from below the ship. I turned and crouched down to look under the ramp.

A band of glowing red light greeted me. Instinct transformed my gun from one servo, and I pointed it at the 'Con beneath my ship. The faint glow from my weapon illuminated bright green armor on a rounded frame. It also seemed to draw his attention away from whatever the Pit he was doing to my _Jackhammer_. His gaze flicked up to me, and he made a noise of shock.

"Come out with your servos up," I growled.

To my surprise, he grinned. There was a sound like a suction cup, and he suddenly rolled out sideways from under the _Jackhammer_ , forcing me to dash around the side to catch him where he'd come up to a kneeling position. Before I could shoot, the little aft leaped right at me. He dug his servos into my plating and flipped over my helm, unbalancing me. My arms pinwheeled as I struggled to keep from falling backwards, but the extra weight on my back pulled me over, and I thudded to the ground. He jumped out of the way just in time, but I managed to lash out with one servo and bring him down with me. He scrambled backwards as I got back to my pedes.

"C'mere, 'Con!" I lunged at him, but he leaped backwards into the cover provided by the trees.

Branches slapped my face as I followed, unsheathing my swords to hack away the organic mess. Ahead of me, I could see the green menace jump up—and continue up—and up—scrap, that was a tall tree. When I arrived at its base, he was on a branch three times my height above the ground. I put back my swords and transformed my gun out again. Before I could get a shot off, though, the Decepticon leaped into the next giant tree over.

"I'd love to stay and chat, Autoscum," he yelled down at me with an infuriatingly cheerful tone, "but I've got a bridge to catch!" With that, he disappeared from sight.

I punched the tree. He was too fast, too unpredictable. I couldn't follow and expect to catch him on my own. Better go see what the slagger did to my ship.

" _Frag_!"

As much as I hated to admit it, I was going to need backup.


	2. Schmarotzer

**Chapter Two: Freeloader**

I activated my tracking beacon and commed my commanding officer on the way to the rendezvous point.

"Query: mission status?" he asked.

"I drained the ship's fuel tank most of the way myself, Commander," I answered. "The rest should have emptied by now through the hole I left."

"Freeloader: successful. New orders: report to medical bay for debriefing."

"Yes, sir."

He severed the link. The ground bridge opened up in front of me. I walked through and found myself standing on the top deck of the _Nemesis_. Soundwave barely nodded at me as I followed him inside. He headed toward the control center to make his report to Lord Megatron, and I made my way to the med bay.

A couple of Vehicons waved at me as I passed them. I waved back, even though I couldn't remember if they were ones I'd talked to before—not that I really cared if I had. It's not my fault they all look alike. But it's nice to acknowledge them, since they'll probably be offlined in the next lunar cycle. Our drones don't really have a chance against the Autobots, but they make good cannon fodder while the rest of us get real work done. Breakdown doesn't like it when I talk that way. He says that they've got sparks and processors of their own, and it goes against everything the Decepticons stand for to not treat them equally. I don't see many of the other officers follow his example, but Breakdown knows what he's talking about. He didn't defect from the 'Bots five vorns into the war for nothing.

The med bay doors were shut. I could hear music throbbing from inside. I knocked as loudly as I could before opening the doors myself.

It looked like Knock Out was taking a break to refuel. The red medic was sitting on the edge of a counter, sipping from a cube of energon and surveying his tray of cosmetic instruments. He glanced up from the tools and grinned at me.

"Ah, Freeloader, it's good to have you back! Breakdown," he called, turning toward the door that led to his quarters, "hurry up with that polish, would you?"

"On my way, Knock—" Breakdown froze in the doorway when he saw me standing there. "Freeloader!"

Knock Out gave an undignified shriek, just barely catching the jar of polish that was chucked his way. Breakdown was at my side in an instant and grabbing me in a headlock. I wriggled out of his grip and threw myself at his midriff, clinging to him below his jutting chestplate so I'd be harder to reach. I was smaller than him. I wasn't less than half his size, but it was enough of a difference. He grabbed one of my pedes and tried to pull me off, but I transformed out my servo blades and dug them into his armor to lock myself in place.

"Nice trick," he grunted, yanking my servos off and tossing me across the med bay. "Where'd you learn that one?"

I pushed myself back up to stand and dodged a swing of his fist. "Figured it out just now, actually."

"How… resourceful," Knock Out drawled from his seat out of our way.

"He's right," Breakdown added. "That quick thinkin' oughta give you a big advantage, 'specially against mechs who haven't fought you before."

He transformed out his hammer and slammed it into my midsection. Even though he was pulling his punches, it hurt like the Pit. I didn't let myself be pushed back. Instead, I grabbed onto his arm over the hammer and vaulted past it, crashing into his shoulder spikes with barely enough force to make him take a step back, which was still pretty good. Breakdown is _strong_ , so it's always an accomplishment for me to do stuff like that with my little frame.

"This worked better on that Autobot," I panted, trying to extend myself far enough from his chassis to tip him over like I had done earlier. "You shoulda seen the look on his stupid face when I knocked him down. He couldn't believe it."

Breakdown transformed his hammer back to a servo, got a grip on me, and threw me to the floor, where he put a pede on my chestplate to hold me in place for a moment before letting me up and whacking my shoulder affectionately.

"Good fightin' there!" he praised me. "You held out a lot longer than the last time."

I grinned up at him. "Think so?"

"Mm, indeed." Knock Out's tone was a little sharper than usual. Well, I had interrupted his vanity session, so it was understandable. "I daresay one day the student will surpass the teacher, Breakdown."

My faceplate heated up. "I'm a long way from _that_ , Knock Out…"

"Maybe not as long a way as you think," Breakdown commented, getting himself an energon cube from the stock. He held one out to me, but I declined.

"I've got more than enough in both tanks, thanks."

His yellow optics—well, optic—got a little brighter when he laughed aloud. He pulled me over to a berth and sat me down.

"That's _right_! You just finished a mission! C'mon, 'Loader, take a seat and lemme look you over."

"Shouldn't you finish helping Knock Out with his, well, finish?" I asked with a glance at our medic, not wanting him any more slagged off at me than he probably was.

Knock Out just shook his helm. His expression was resigned, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as he spoke. "It's fine. He won't be able to focus on anything until you're taken care of, anyway."

It struck me that maybe Knock Out was as happy to see me as Breakdown was.

"So, 'Loader," Breakdown began, hooking up a scanner to my medical port, "you mentioned takin' on an Autobot. Who'd they send you after?"

I watched as the x-rays showed up on the screen. "Former Wrecker, designation Wheeljack."

"When did 'Jack get to Earth? Heard he was here for a bit before we got summoned to the _Nemesis_ , but he was gone again before that."

"He came back a couple Earth cycles ago chasing Dreadwing. Stuck around after the stalemate. That's what Soundwave told me when he commandeered me from scouting for energon to find and ground the ship. Anyway, it took a few cycles to track him down, but I got the job done. Drained the fuel tanks. Next step's to lead a strike team right to 'im."

"What if he's got backup by then?" Knock Out asked.

Breakdown laughed. "Wreckers don't call for backup, Doc."

I finished the slogan with him. " _They call for cleanup_!"

We snickered together. Knock Out rolled his optics.

Breakdown disconnected the scanner. "When's Soundwave sendin' you back out? 'M thinkin' I'd like to join that strike team—for old time's sake."

I shrugged. "Few joors from now. You really want to come along?"

"'Course I do! I gotta watch your back, don't I?" He shoved me, teasing. "We just got you home again. I ain't lettin' you out of my sight."


	3. Taktik

**Chapter Three: Wheeljack**

The base for Prime's team is cozy. A little too cozy for the likes of me, but it's still nice. Ratchet was the only one home when I was bridged through. Well, Ratchet and their resident Decepticon prisoner, but she was locked up in her cell.

I explained my predicament to Ratchet, and he was kind enough to only rub it in my face for a minute. "What happened to 'Wreckers don't call for backup?'" he snorted.

I crossed my arms. "This doesn't count. I'm just accepting the teamwork offer from earlier—for this one job."

"And what do you intend to do?"

"Look, that 'Con has got some serious skill, sneaking around my ship like that _and_ holding his own against me in a fight. We can't have that kind of saboteur running around free, especially without knowing all of what he can do."

"So you're suggesting we capture him to analyze the threat?"

"Yeah. Unless you're actually okay with blowing him to bits like I'd normally suggest."

He ex-vented in exasperation. "Fine. We've got two cells here, so one more prisoner won't overcrowd us."

"I've been meaning to ask: why is your captive 'Con scout still around?"

Ratchet actually looked a little embarrassed. "She, uh… hasn't expressed a desire to leave. When we bring it up, she makes an excuse along the lines of her injuries not having healed fully."

"How long are you planning to waste supplies on her before kicking her sorry aft out through a ground bridge?"

His tone became defensive. "It hasn't been a total waste. She's given us some valuable intelligence of late: potential energon deposit locations, the state of internal affairs among Decepticons—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why the Pit are you all trusting information from a 'Con?"

"For one thing, she hasn't lied yet. There are things she refuses to tell us, but so far nothing untoward has happened at the locations she suggests. We've built up our stock quite a bit in the last few days. The rest of the team is actually checking out another location now. We don't return to a deposit after the first day of uncovering and transporting energon, in case the strengthened signal of the uncovered deposit is picked up by Decepticon sensors, but we can bring in a lot within that time limit."

"What does she get from telling you that?"

"She says that she likes hanging around us and not having the stress of infighting weighing on her."

"And Prime accepts that?"

The embarrassment returned. "Optimus is… idealistic, yes, but he's working with more than hope here. She's got plenty of even more selfish reasons to not sabotage us. That's why she's been allowed out of the stasis cuffs lately as long as one of us is around to keep an optic on her."

I shook my helm in wonder. "You all've got some bearings to take a risk like that."

"Last I saw, you got along more than well enough with her," Ratchet accused me.

"Getting along's different from trusting. 'Sides, no one else'll join in when I tease you."

His optics glittered with joking malice. "The rest of the team knows the danger."

I shoved him lightly, grinning. "You know I live for danger, Doc."

" _Stop calling me 'Doc!'_ "

Several thrown wrenches later, Prime and the rest of the team trooped back into base through the ground bridge. Apparently the potential deposit was actually the dried-energon-coated remains of a few Vehicons. They hadn't found the cause, but from what Bumblebee told me before dashing off to speak with their informant, it wasn't for lack of trying.

Ratchet and I explained the situation and my plan to Prime, Bulkhead, and Arcee. Bulk was pretty happy to see me in spite of the circumstances. He volunteered right away to help nab the saboteur. I had been hoping for Arcee or Bumblebee, since they'd be better suited to the stealthy nature of the mission, but Prime joined on as well, and we could only take so many 'Bots without knowing what we might walk into. The three of us each subspaced a pair of stasis cuffs. Ratchet bridged us to the _Jackhammer_ , which we managed to push through another bridge to an empty storage area on base, where it would be out of the way until we could fully repair it.

I didn't loathe the idea of staying on base for a lunar cycle as much as I had thought I would.

Our next step was to find places where each of us could conceal ourselves, which was no easy task for Bulkhead and Prime. In the end, we settled for Prime standing in the middle of a cluster of trees with broad trunks and Bulkhead crouching at the foot of a hill. I didn't have the spark to tell them how obvious they were, so I just—carefully—climbed the thickest tree I could find until I was about twice Prime's height off the ground. I imagined the trunk creaking under my weight and winced, but nothing happened.

We lay in wait for almost a joor before my audials picked up a slight snapping sound. I slowly turned my helm in that direction and dimmed my optics so the glow wasn't as obvious.

There.

The saboteur was slowly approaching our area. He stared at the empty clearing spattered with faintly glowing energon where the Jackhammer had been. I thought I heard him quietly say, " _Frag_ ," and it tickled me to know that I'd incurred the same response in him that he had earlier. That's right, Decepticreep. We've got more surprises waiting for you, too. Just keep coming closer…

I unsubspaced my set of stasis cuffs and waited, silently pinging Prime and Bulkhead to remind them of their part in the plan. Just as the 'Con walked past my tree, Bulk rolled over to a standing position and pointed a transformed-out gun at him.

The little green punk jumped almost imperceptibly. That infuriating grin spread over his face.

"Looks like I'll be making good use of my time after all," he said, getting into a fighting stance. "Breakdown'll be sorry he missed _this_!"

He charged at Bulkhead, who, realizing too late that his gun feint wasn't going to deter our target, switched to his wrecking ball just as the 'Con jumped straight up in front of his face and kicked with both pedes. The force managed to push Bulkhead backward so that he had to take a step in order to keep his balance, and his attacker flipped back to land on his pedes before transforming guns out of the backs of his servos and training their laser sights over Bulkhead's spark chamber.

Prime stepped out of hiding with his own gun pointed at the 'Con. "If you shoot, then so do I," he rumbled.

I thought his optics behind his visor glowed a little brighter from fear at the sight of our leader, and he took a step back. In another moment, he'd switched to mocking us again, but now he was standing under my perch.

"So Wheeljack sent his best pal and the Prime instead of coming himself? So much for the Wrecker motto. What's he so afraid of?"

I dropped down to land right behind him and snapped the stasis cuffs over his wrists, forcing his servo guns to retract and his frame to freeze up.

"The better question for you to ask yourself," I growled into his audial, "is 'what should _you_ be afraid of?' Here's your answer: _Me_."


	4. Gefangen

**Chapter Four: Freeloader**

 _Slag_. How did he sneak up on me? The 'Bot held me by one of the wheels on my shoulder armor as he stepped forward toward his pals.

I concentrated, trying to at least activate my comm link's distress beacon or ping Breakdown, but the stasis cuffs had obstructed my signal. Nothing worked.

Those dumb drones had picked a _great_ day to have a cave-in and force Breakdown to stay in the med bay assisting Knock Out with their injuries. I needed backup, and the Eradicon squad that had been following me at a distance wouldn't be able to take on two Wreckers and Optimus Prime.

Wheeljack seemed to have noticed my faraway look. He shook me roughly and looked at his Prime, who raised a servo to his comm link.

"Ratchet, send the ground bridge." The Prime's deep voice unsettled me, though I tried not to let it show. He sounded a little like Megatron, but he didn't have the gravelly, angry rasp that I was used to. I didn't like that it sounded so smooth. Autobots are tricky; they seem all righteous and pure and stuff, but they'll turn right around and yank out your spark chamber if you make a wrong step. I've seen too many Vehicons offlined that way to take them at face value.

The bridge opened in front of us. I vented shakily as first Bulkhead, then Prime disappeared through it. Wheeljack walked me forward after them. I didn't resist. There was nothing I could do with these Pit-spawned cuffs on.

The Autobot base was well-lit. That was the first thing I noticed, since my visor was in night-vision mode. Luckily the stasis cuffs didn't prevent me from flicking it into its slot in my helm armor. Now I could get a proper look around.

Almost every Autobot was present. Of course, they weren't many, but it was daunting nonetheless. I'd seen the aftermath of battles with them, and it was never pretty.

There was Prime's medic, Ratchet, standing by some primitive-looking Earth holoscreens. He was mostly harmless, I knew, but there _had_ been that one time with the synthetic energon. The mech had taken out Breakdown and almost decked Megatron himself.

The two-wheeler, Arcee, whose partner Starscream never shut up about offlining back before he bailed on the Decepticons, glared at me from her position next to Prime near the opening of a hallway. If I wanted to get past her, I'd need to rely on something other than speed and agility. She outclassed me in both.

Bulkhead, Breakdown's rival, walked off down the hall and out of sight. I couldn't see where he went, but it was probably to complain to his pet human about how close I'd gotten to taking him out. The thought made me wish Breakdown was here. Well, okay, not _here_ , but with me on the return mission. This wouldn't have happened at all if he had been on the strike team.

Wheeljack shoved me toward a medical berth across the room. I stumbled and inwardly cursed at myself for looking weak. I sat on the edge of the berth and glared around the room, daring the 'Bots to say something.

Ratchet shut down the bridge and walked over to us. He held a portable scanner and pulled out the cord.

"This will go much easier if you cooperate," he said to me.

I huffed at the idea. "Not likely, old mech. I'm not letting you plug that into me."

Wheeljack tightened his grip on my tire. "You don't get a say in this."

"Wheeljack," Prime reprimanded him, "we are not Decepticons. It goes against our values to force such things."

The Wrecker scowled and let go of me. I didn't move. It's not like I had anywhere to go—or any _way_ , with the stasis cuffs on. I reconsidered that logic when Prime started toward me. If the cuffs hadn't been restricting my motor skills, I'd have run for it. To my confusion, he knelt down to get closer to my level. He overcompensated and had to look up slightly to meet my gaze.

"What is your designation, youngling?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you _that_ ," I scoffed.

"Don't make this any harder on yourself than you have to, 'Con," Arcee spoke up.

Ratchet waved a servo in dismissal. "We can ask our other prisoner to identify him later. In the meantime…" He switched the port-connection scanner for a simpler, cordless one. "It won't tell us as much, but we'll be able to see the abnormalities in his frame."

Wait a klik. What other prisoner? Is this where Starscream ended up?

The medic completed his scan and looked over the screen. "That's... odd." He must have found my extra fuel tank. I glanced away, a little embarrassed. I'd gotten over my defect kilovorns ago, when Shockwave found a way to make use of it during my saboteur modifications, but when mechs made a big deal out of it, I couldn't help feeling awkward. Fortunately for me, he seemed satisfied with his findings for the moment.

"Optimus, Wheeljack, I'd like to go over this with you. In fact…" He put a digit to his comm. "Bumblebee, I need both of you in the med bay. Yes, now."

Both? Who was with their scout?

Prime looked to Wheeljack. "Wheeljack, take him to the empty cell, please. Meet us back here."

Wheeljack nodded and took me by the arm. I made a noise of protest, but he pulled me along into the hall as Prime gave instructions to Arcee. Not for the first time, I wished my audial sensors were stronger. I couldn't hear what he was saying to the two-wheeler, so I just hoped it wasn't about me.

As we turned a corner, I glanced up from my pedes and vented sharply.

" _Upwash_?"

The Decepticon following Bumblebee stopped in her tracks. "Freeloader!" Her wings fluttered in surprise; the setting of her stasis cuffs must have been more lenient than mine.

"Soundwave said you haven't reported back in almost an orbital cycle! I spent three lunar cycles looking for you before we had to give up!"

Upwash looked at the Autobot scout leading her. He spoke in Universal Binary.

/ _You can catch up with your 'Con pal after Optimus sees you._ /

Her wings drooped for a moment, but they were back up almost instantly.

"I'll explain when I get back, 'Loader," she said, using the nickname Breakdown had given me. It was a little comforting, but not comforting enough. We continued on our separate ways.

Wheeljack keyed open the door to a cell and shoved me inside. To my surprise, he reached over and adjusted my stasis cuffs so that I could move more freely, but still couldn't transform anything.

"Berth's in the corner," he said gruffly. "Someone will bring you a cube in a few joors."

"I don't need your fuel," I sneered at him.

He narrowed his optics. "I suppose not, if the _Jackhammer_ 's energon went where I think it did."

I just smirked at him. Wheeljack shook his helm and left. The door slid shut behind him with a muffled _whump_.

My composure dropped. I leaned back against a wall, then slid down to the floor and rested my head in my servos.

How did everything go so wrong so quickly?

If only Breakdown had been able to join the strike team. It's all those stupid drones' fault for letting that cave-in happen. And Knock Out's for not being able to handle a full med bay on his own.

I knew I wasn't being fair, but I needed someone to blame. Breakdown's told me that keeping frustration inside doesn't help anybody, and we need things to target our frustration on in order to purge it.

Why the frag does it matter, anyway? Breakdown's not here. He's stuck in the med bay, patching up drones, and I'm trapped in the enemy base! They'll never find me.

I leaped to my pedes and charged at the wall, bouncing off it with a clang and a yell. I rushed the wall again and again.

" _Slag—fragging—Pit-rusted spawn of Unicron—slag 'em all—_ "

"Freeloader!"

Suddenly Upwash was there, grabbing onto my shoulder plating and shaking me.

"Freeloader, calm down," she begged. "You're fine; nothing's going to happen to you, but you need to stop this."

I ex-vented heavily. She pushed me over to the tiny berth in the corner and made me sit.

"Look, being in Autobot custody for as long as I have, I've learned a few things. What you need to know is that cooperation will get you a lot further with them than open hostility."

I tilted my helm. "Not far enough to get released, I see."

She looked away. "If you can get their trust, then they'll let their guard down eventually. You'll find an opening. You're better at that than I am."

Someone rapped on the cell door. It slid open, revealing Ratchet.

"Time's up," he stated. Upwash nodded and followed him out. I slumped back on the berth, cycling air through my vents in an effort to calm my systems.

Less than a joor later, the door slid open again. I rolled over to face it and almost fell off the tiny berth.

At least the Prime didn't laugh. He just stood there, waiting. I stood up off the berth, wishing the cuffs didn't prevent me from crossing my arms.

"What do you want?" The question, intended to express defiance, betrayed my nervousness instead.

"Only your company for a few kliks, Freeloader," he answered. "Come, walk with me."

"I'm not going to talk, if that's what you want."

"That is your decision." He put a huge servo on my shoulder armor and nudged me along.

We set off down the hall. I expected him to turn and gut me at every step. Nothing happened. The corridor felt longer than it had on the way to the cell. I could see the entrance to another hall across the main chamber of the base. Where did it lead? Prime's torture chamber, maybe? I stared around the room every which way as we crossed it. Anything that could provide an opportunity for escape, anything at all…

My gaze landed on the holoscreen area. Ratchet stood there with Upwash. _Upwash_? She wasn't wearing stasis cuffs this time. They were talking quietly. Ratchet looked a little irritated, but Upwash was grinning. She reached up and touched his helm, saying something that made him roll his optics. Then one of his servos brushed her waist, and she leaned into his frame with an familiar expression.

Oh, _frag_ , no! No fragging way!

" _Hey_!" I yelled across the space. They pulled away from each other, surprised.

Upwash's voice was all panicky. "Freeloader, I—"

I yanked myself away from Prime's servo. He didn't stop me.

"So _this_ is what you've been doing all this time? Fraternizing with Autobots? What kind of Decepticon are you?"

"Freeloader—"

" _Traitor_!" I shouted. "When Lord Megatron hears of this, you'll be reduced to so much scrap metal!"

I started to charge toward her, but Prime grabbed hold of me again. I continued to rave as he forced me back the way we'd come, saying something about trying again when I was adjusted.

I was still ranting as he shut me back into my cell. How could Upwash betray us? How long had she been involved with the medic like this? What Decepticon secrets had she already revealed?

Frag her. Frag them all. If I ever got the chance, I'd scrap her myself. Even better: I'd scrap every last one of her precious Autoscum before her optics, _then_ hand her over to Knock Out for some of his special treatment, _then_ give what's left of her to Megatron for the ultimate traitor's penalty she deserved.

I want to go home.


	5. Herkunft

**Chapter Five: Wheeljack**

I was working on patching the holes in _Jackhammer_ 's fuel lines when the commotion from the main area of the base reached my audials. I dropped the next piece of spare metal I had been about to grab, switched off my blowtorch, and hurried out of the storage area and down the hall. I passed Prime dragging Freeloader kicking and shouting to his cell. Wonder what set him off again. Prime didn't seem to need my help, so I continued the way that he and the prisoner were coming from.

Our other prisoner, currently un-cuffed, was sitting on the med bay berth while Ratchet stood talking to her quietly. As I got closer, I could see that she seemed uncharacteristically shaken.

"Upwash," Ratchet was saying, "it's all right. You're in our base, and that makes us responsible for your safety, prisoner or not. As long as you're here, you're safe."

"What's going on here?" I asked.

They looked at me, surprised. Ratchet spoke first.

"Freeloader saw us talking and—correctly—guessed her role in this base."

"And blew a gasket. As would be expected."

"Precisely."

I looked down at Upwash. "And what have you got to say about this?"

Her intakes visibly hitched. "He's right," she said. "I'm a traitor. Whatever information I keep won't make my case any better before Megatron. I've been doomed from the first location I gave."

"That little aft is just trying to scare you," I huffed. "He can't do a thing. Overconfident, rust-driven spawn of the Pit—"

"Don't call him that!" she exclaimed. "You don't know him: not where he comes from, not what he's been through—"

Ratchet put a servo on her shoulder, steadying her.

"Upwash," he began slowly, "I know you didn't want to tell us more than his rank and designation, but I think we need to know what we're dealing with. Please."

She put a servo over his and vented. I had the distinct impression that I was intruding upon something private and potentially intimate. "All right."

Bumblebee walked in as she was about to continue. / _Hey, guys, what's with Freeloader's temper tantrum just now? He glitching or something?_ /

Upwash gave her fellow scout a strained smile. "I was about to explain Freeloader's past."

/ _Well, don't let me stop you! I'm as curious as the next 'Bot._ /

Bee sat down on the floor as Upwash started.

"Freeloader was part of the last wave of sparks before the Well disappeared from Cybertron. As you know, those sparklings were raised in the last remaining Youth Center until its destruction in a raid, at which point the surviving sparklings were parceled out to various caretakers."

/ _I was one of those_ ,/ Bee chimed in. / _They sent me to an Autobot medical center with a few others_./

Upwash nodded. "About half were sent to Autobot facilities. The rest went to various neutral parties. Freeloader went to a mech by the designation Blindside in Yuss." She paused. "'Loader doesn't talk about his time in the Youth Center. I'm not sure how well he was treated by his peers. I do know that his defect—you saw the scan of his fuel tanks—wasn't benevolently looked upon in most cases. He had to have one tank all the way full before the other would fill, and if one remained empty, he'd have terrible cramps and other fuel-deprivation symptoms. Since he needed more than the allotted amount of energon to live without pain, he was considered a burden by most of the caretakers. I've seen their files on him, so that much is certain. Anyway, he doesn't talk about Blindside much, but he doesn't seem to resent living with him, either, so I think he must have been treated well there. What the Autobots in charge of distributing sparklings didn't know is that Blindside had gotten on the DJD's List for defecting from the 'Cons to become neutral a vorn earlier."

A collective intake went around our little group. The Decepticon Justice Division was ruthless. They hunted down traitors to the Decepticon cause and executed them in the messiest ways possible as examples to the rest. We'd lost a lot of good mechs trying in vain to shelter former 'Cons from their wrath. Luckily, the last known sighting of them had left little doubt that they were all offline now.

"So they showed up at his home," Ratchet stated once we had all vented a few times to calm our circuits.

She nodded. "The aftermath wasn't pretty. I've seen pictures. Energon and armor scraps everywhere, and a terrified sparkling huddled in a corner. The DJD is ruthless, but Freeloader wasn't on the List, and he hadn't done anything to aid their target. They brought him to Shockwave on their way to report to Megatron. Shockwave made the logical decision. We needed more mechs in the field with intelligence and special operations roles. Freeloader's extra tank gave Shockwave the idea for some saboteur modifications. Shockwave added fuel-siphoning lines and rerouted things so that he could have normal rations without leaving one tank empty. With that and the rest of his special ops modifications, Freeloader hit the youngling stage just in time to go into the field.

"He was a natural. Soundwave's favorite charge. Quick-witted, merciless, and loyal. He'd be sent in before and after battles: before to skew the battle in our favor and after to scavenge energon before it dried in the corpses' fuel lines."

Upwash paused. She looked like she was trying to decide how much more to say. "He came to Earth with the rest of us, actually. It surprises me that this was your first direct encounter with him."

"Is there anything else we should know?" Ratchet asked. "How close are you two?"

"Not very. He's really close to Breakdown and Knock Out, Breakdown especially, but that's about it."

I ex-vented sharply. " _Breakdown_? Since when is _Breakdown_ here?" Although, come to think of it, Freeloader had said something about Breakdown earlier, so it wasn't a total surprise.

"Since about a lunar cycle after your first visit," Ratchet replied.

"That slagger… No wonder the little mech's so messed up with _him_ as a role model."

Upwash raised an optic ridge. "What's that supposed to mean? Breakdown's got it more together than most of the Decepticon officers."

"Yeah, right. That mech's psychotic. He lives for destruction. Some company for younglings."

She shook her helm. "He's a better mech than you, Wheeljack. If you really want to see someone's real self, you look at how they act around their inferiors, not their superiors or peers. Breakdown's probably the only officer who legitimately cares what happens to the lower-ranking Decepticons."

"'Cause you've had _so_ much experience with compassion and morality." My tone, dripping with sarcasm, didn't reflect the uncertainty in my processor.

She looked away. Bumblebee spoke up, trying to alleviate tension.

/ _You know, I think I'm going to spend some time getting to know Freeloader. I mean, we're the same age, so he might be more open with me._ /

Upwash ex-vented. "Good luck, I guess."

Bee got up and walked away down the hall. After a moment, I got up and followed. "Hey, Bee, wait up!"

He stopped and looked back at me. I rubbed the back of my helm, suddenly self-conscious. "All right if I hang around and watch? Make sure nothing goes wrong?"

/ _Suit yourself._ / he chirped, putting his servos on his hips, / _but don't think I don't know your real reason._ /

I shrugged. "So the kid's got a sad story. Doesn't mean I give a scrap. I just want to see more of him before I make more judgements that Upwash can yell at me for."

/ _Whatever. Optimus was going to take him to the wash racks before the freakout. I think I'll start with that if he's calmed down enough._ /

Freeloader came quietly when we brought him out of his cell. He was more subdued than I'd seen him yet. His posture was hunched, drawn in, making him look small and helpless. It was probably a feint, but I couldn't help thinking about what Upwash had said and seeing a frightened youngling before me rather than a cunning spy. His visor was down again, like he was trying to hide behind it, but his body language was pretty obvious. He turned his helm away as we passed Ratchet and Upwash, shoulders hunching even more when we continued the way Prime had tried to bring him earlier.

"Do your worst," he muttered as we entered the hall leading to the wash racks. "I'm not telling you a thing."

Bee froze mid-step. He turned to Freeloader.

/ _We're not going to hurt you,_ / he said, putting a servo on the prisoner's shoulder. / _We're just going to get you cleaned up. Come on._ /

I swear his optics shuttered in relief behind that visor. He _was_ scared. We took him into the wash racks, and I sat back to let Bee handle things.


	6. Wäsche

**Chapter Six: Freeloader**

This wasn't the torture chamber, thank Primus; it was the wash racks! When Bumblebee and Wheeljack appeared after Prime left, I was sure that he'd sent them to finish the job. Apparently not.

Bumblebee started the water running and gestured for me to get under the spray. I obeyed, not ready to test my luck again at aggravation without consequence. Knock Out had wanted to make me wash back at base—and had offered to fix up my paint job, to boot—but I had pointed out that the second part of the mission would put me back in the field right after, so it was better to save it for later. Breakdown had laughed at Knock Out's disappointed expression and promised that he'd help give me the full treatment when we got back. Then the alert went off and the Vehicons started pouring into the med bay, and Breakdown had waved at me from his position checking out a miner as I left.

I focused on the sensation of the water on my plating to try and ignore the pain in my spark that stemmed from thinking of them. Had news of my capture reached them? Were they looking for me? I pictured Breakdown rushing around the _Nemesis_ , demanding that he be allowed to find the Autobots and beat my location out of them. It was a comforting thought. Breakdown would fix this.

/ _Need some cleanser?_ / Bumblebee interrupted my train of thought. He got some of the stuff on a big sponge and handed it to me.

How was I going to scrub myself down with these cuffs holding my wrists together? I just looked at him, willing him to see the issue here and wondering how he'd get around it. Maybe now I could get them taken off for a few kliks.

His optics cycled wide. / _Oh, sorry! I totally didn't think of your cuffs! Here, give that to me._ /

 _What_? I gave it back, and Bumblebee stepped into the wash racks with me. He started running the sponge over my plating. I could see Wheeljack watching from his seat by the entrance and felt my faceplate heat up with embarrassment. The scout seemed to feel none of the awkwardness.

/ _So,_ / he said, cleaning the spokes of the wheels on my back, / _you're a grounder, huh? What's your Earth alt?_ /

"...I'm not telling you that."

/ _How do you feel about Earth? Do you like it here? I'm guessing you spend a lot of time on the surface, since we haven't run into you before now._ /

I hesitated. That wasn't sensitive information, was it? My opinion on Earth doesn't affect missions or anything, after all. And it's uncomfortable to just stand here in silence while he's washing me.

"It's okay. I like the variety in terrain."

/ _Me, too. I love driving in all the different areas. I mean, some are aren't as well suited for driving as others, like the mountains. I tried that one they call Saint Hilary's or Ellen's or whatever, and it didn't end well at all._ /

I sniggered as he moved down my back to my legs. "Fell down the mountain, did you?"

/ _Try "somersaulted." Ratchet threw a hissy fit when I got back,_ / he laughed. / _He gets that way when we get hurt through our own stupidity. It's how we know he cares._ /

"Knock Out does that sometimes. He's usually more passive-aggressive about it, but when Breakdown or I get hurt really bad, like when Breakdown lost his eye, he really—" I stopped.

Bumblebee moved around to my front and handed me the sponge again. / _Here. You should be able to reach the rest yourself._ /

I started scrubbing at my chestplate, glad for the diversion from my slip, but then he spoke again.

/ _You're really close with the two of them, aren't you?_ /

"What's it to you? I'm not going to give you any more information you could use against my faction."

/ _Sorry. I wasn't trying to pry._ / He shut up after that and just helped me finish up washing and drying myself off. Wheeljack didn't speak the whole rest of the time, but when Bumblebee came to my cell the next solar cycle and brought me to the main room to hang out for a bit, he came along again. He'd just sit off to the side, watching. It was unsettling at first, but Bumblebee put me more at ease than I cared to admit. We'd talk about Earth: it was a safe enough topic if we avoided anything involving our factions. He introduced me to this racing game, and we'd play that for joors. I couldn't remember the last time I was around someone my age like this. Maybe never. If I wasn't careful, I'd forget that he was the enemy.

The other Autobots joined in occasionally. I decided that I should go along with them as best I could. They'd have to drop their guard eventually, and there was no reason I shouldn't enjoy myself while I waited for an opening.

I didn't talk to Upwash, and she didn't talk to me. I had nothing to say in the face of her betrayal.

Wheeljack started participating in our conversations eventually, and I could see how he and Breakdown would have gotten along during their Wrecker vorns. They were both rough and didn't give a scrap what mechs thought. That was where the similarities ended, though. I couldn't stay on that train of thought for long before my spark started hurting. Breakdown will be here soon, I reminded myself every time. He'll get me out of here, and things will go back to normal. We can go home to Knock Out on the _Nemesis_. Everything will be okay.

One solar cycle, my cell door opened to reveal Wheeljack standing in the hall alone.


	7. Fragen

**Chapter Seven: Wheeljack**

Freeloader seemed taken aback when I came to get him without Bee. Can't say I blamed him.

"Bee's on a mission," I explained. "Figured you'd want to stretch your actuators anyway."

He nodded slowly. I motioned him out the door. "C'mon, then."

The 'Con followed me out to the main area of the base. I was more than a little on edge; I've never been good with younglings. As he walked past me and began a lap around the space, I had to remind myself that he was no more a youngling than Bumblebee. The mech was so little that, of the 'Bots on base, only Arcee's two-wheeler frame was smaller than him. Definitely a minibot. Made me wonder what kind of Earth vehicle he'd had to scan to fit his build. Four wheels—two in his pedes, two on his back—probably meant some form of car. Maybe one of those itty-bitty ones humans liked to drive around green, hilly areas.

Getting to know the little mech had raised some other questions for me, but I couldn't decide whether to ask or let him be. He seemed to be getting used to the base and its occupants, and I couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing, either. The silence wore on. He completed three full laps before I spoke.

"What was it like at the Youth Center?"

Freeloader stopped and stood stock still. He wasn't facing me, but I could hear his visor snap down.

"I wasn't there for more than a vorn," he said flatly. "It's not in my memory banks."

I crossed my arms. He could have just refused to talk about it, like he'd been doing all this time when potential military secrets came up. Instead, he gave quite possibly the dumbest lie I'd ever heard. I knew this tactic. I'd used it myself more than once in the past. This wasn't a refusal; it was a cry for help. A weak one, sure, but it was there in his voice.

Well, scrap. 'Con or not, I'd have to do something now, wouldn't I?

"We both know that's not true." I said. An idea struck. "I get that you don't like me. Can't say I'm all that fond of you, either, but keeping frustration inside doesn't help anybody, so… want to spar?"

My words had a weird effect on him. Freeloader's shoulders dropped. He turned around as his visor slid back. His optics were strangely bright.

"You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Relieved that a therapy session wasn't needed, I walked over and set his cuffs to separate so he'd have freedom of movement but not transformation.

"No weapons or transforming for either of us."

He shrugged. "Whatever. We already know I don't need your weapons disabled to beat you."

"I wouldn't want to damage that smooth plating without reason."

We sparred until the team got back from their mission and Ratchet ordered us out so he'd have room to work on them. As I walked Freeloader back to his cell, we kept bantering.

"So, short stuff, what sort of puny human vehicle fit that frame?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. How'd you find something to accommodate those fancy blades? I wouldn't call those Wrecker style."

"They'll do just as much damage by cutting as a blunt weapon will do by crushing. Maybe more. I mean, I haven't yet seen Bulkhead take off a mech's helm with his wrecking ball."

"Finesse over brute force still doesn't sound all that Wrecker-like."

"When did _you_ become an expert on the Wreckers, tiny?"

"Breakdown."

Well, I could keep this interaction friendly, despite that reminder.

"Now _there's_ a mech all about the brute force. Perfect example of why I like to change it up a little. You stick to relying on strength alone, you end up with a stalemate every time. Just look at him and Bulkhead."

I had never been all that close to Breakdown, but we'd both been close to Bulkhead, so we spent a lot of time around one another even outside of missions—not that there'd been much outside of missions during the war. Bulkhead was devastated when Breakdown defected to the 'Cons. We all were. Wreckers have to be able to depend on one another. We were all we had.

Of course, Breakdown hadn't been the only mech to leave.

"You've got a point there," Freeloader conceded. "Breakdown tells me the same thing: his frametype doesn't allow for much speed or agility, and mine doesn't allow for much force, so when we spar it's almost evenly balanced…" He trailed off.

I nudged him with my shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. "How'd a smart mech like you end up wearing a Decepticon insignia, anyway?"

He didn't hesitate. "Shockwave gave me a chance no one else could. He made it so that I could help fight for freedom like the others. I'd never been useful before. My tanks…" He looked away. "Before the modifications, my tanks made it so I was either wasting energon or in constant pain. Shockwave fixed me and handed me over to Soundwave for training. A whole new door opened up for me where there hadn't been any before." He fell silent again. This time, I let him be.

When we got to the cell, I locked his cuffs together again, then paused on my way out and turned back to him.

"Freeloader."

He glanced up from where he'd been picking a little gravel from a knee joint. "What?"

I had to reset my vocalizer before speaking. "You'd be useful here. More than that, you'd be cared for. You could join us."

He stiffened. "I was cared for on the _Nemesis_. My place is with Breakdown... with the other Decepticons..."

I nodded and turned to go. The sound of his ex-vent reached my audials.

"Wheeljack?"

It took all my willpower not to look at him. "What?"

"I didn't say 'no.' Just… just let me think about it, okay?"

I turned one more time. He looked anxious, confused. Frightened. I couldn't blame him. "Take all the time you need."


	8. Offenbarung

**Chapter Eight: Freeloader**

I _had_ to get out of here. They were chipping away at my resolve. Wheeljack especially. I wasn't expecting him to get involved like that. It took me by surprise, and I couldn't afford to be surprised. At least I got a handle on myself there and left an opening. If I could just lead them on enough to think I'm turning 'Bot, I'd have a chance at getting out of here. If I played my cards right, I could even bring that chance about myself.

The next solar cycle, Bumblebee visited like normal. He had welding marks going from one pede up that side of his chestplate to his shoulder armor, but he seemed as friendly and cheerful as ever.

/ _Hey, Freeloader! Heard you did some sparring with Wheeljack yesterday. How'd that go?_ /

"Not bad." I tried to look excited. "He's still on base, right? Is he going to join us today?"

My hunch that all the 'Bots were in on trying to turn me was confirmed. Bumblebee's expression—what I could see of it with his mouthplate up—grew knowing.

/ _Yeah. He's working on something with Ratchet, but I'm sure he'll be happy to take a break._ / The sound of an explosion echoed down the hall. Bumblebee shook his helm. / _If he survives the next few kliks._ /

I followed him. As we entered the main area, a wrench suddenly flew past our heads and hit the wall with a loud clang. Wheeljack was walking slowly backwards away from the angry medic. He spotted us and ducked behind Bumblebee.

"I'm just gonna hang out back here for a moment, Bee!"

/ _And leave me in Ratchet the Hatchet's warpath?_ / the scout beeped. / _I don't think so!_ / He shoved Wheeljack back toward his pursuer.

Ratchet stormed up to him and hit him over the helm with another wrench. "You slagging _idiot_! I fragging _told_ you to _wait_ to add the nyotrinaline until I'd thoroughly integrated the taxon-bindex into the solution!" He continued, volume increasing with every word.

I winced. Accidental or not, scrapping an important project was grounds for an execution on the _Nemesis_. Wheeljack was dead metal.

But Ratchet didn't do more than the first hit with the wrench. Once his rant had finished, he thumped Wheeljack on the shoulder plating, called him an idiot one last time, and walked off to clean up the mess in the med bay.

"You want any help, Doc?" Wheeljack called after him.

Ratchet made a rude servo gesture without looking back. "You've done enough."

The Wrecker turned to us with a sheepish expression. "Think I'd better get out of his way until he's cooled off."

Inspiration struck.

"How 'bout a drive?" I suggested. "We could bridge into the middle of nowhere and take a few laps!" The excitement wasn't hard to fake; this could be my opening if I handled it right.

They looked at me in surprise. I shrank back. "If you're okay with that, I mean."

Bumblebee glanced at Wheeljack. Wheeljack glanced at Bumblebee. I wondered idly if they'd been practicing that _look_ : a sort of " _do-we-trust-him-well-yeah-I-think-he's-_

 _going-to-join-us-but-how-far-do-we-trust-him-and-do-you-think-we-can-take-him-if-things-go-south_ " look. It encompassed a lot. They nodded to one another.

Bumblebee reset my stasis cuffs yet again so they separated to either wrist.

/ _Now you'll be free to use your alt but not your weapons._ /

And free to use my comm link, once out of range of the dampeners in this base. I could feel the block lift on it. Hopefully my alt would be able to get away long enough to call for a ground bridge. They could probably drive faster than me, but if I could create a distraction, I might get the head start needed to lose them.

"Hey, Doc," Wheeljack called, "we're gonna go for a drive. Mind opening the bridge?"

Ratchet turned and glowered at the three of us. "You know what? Fine. It will keep you out of my way for a joor." He strode over to the bridge controls and set coordinates. We lined up in front of the bridge: Bumblebee first, then me, and then Wheeljack in back. I hoped their vigilance would lapse once we got outside. Otherwise, I might never get away.

The medic bridged us to a huge, flat space surrounded by rocky hills. I whooped in excitement. It had been almost half a lunar cycle since I last saw the sky.

Bumblebee transformed right away. / _C'mon, I'll race you!_ / he beeped.

"You'll win," I protested, laughing. Freedom, so close at hand, was exhilerating. What the heck, I needed time to figure out a distraction anyway. "Fine!"

Transforming to my alt took more effort and focus than I remembered. Then again, it had been a long time since I'd used it.

Wheeljack folded his arms and smirked. "What do the kids call that one again? A Beetle? Aww. That's so _cute_!"

I honked my horn at him. "Better looking than that Lancia you scanned! Alright, scout, let's race!"

I pulled up next to Bumblebee and revved my engine. It didn't sound all that impressive coming from a tiny, round vehicle, but still.

/ _Five, four—_ /

"Three, two—"

/ _One!_ / We shot off across the landscape. Well, Bumblebee shot; I puttered. It wasn't much of a race. He circled back around and started lapping me. I wasn't bothered. At least I could look around now under the pretense of my slow engine.

One cluster of hills looked like a promising place to lose the 'Bots. There was enough greenery covering them to keep my armor from immediately selling me out. But I'd have to go on foot since my root mode was faster.

I neared the place Bumblebee had stopped at as the "finish line." As I crossed it, I transformed and hurled myself at Wheeljack, knocking him over.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "What's the big idea?"

"Just proving that I can still take you down," I laughed as he pried me off, but inside I wished I could access my weapons to make taking him down him a little more _permanent_.

For some reason, my spark twinged guiltily at the thought.

No. I couldn't go soft now. I had to get out of here. My gaze drifted to the grenade hooked to Wheeljack's hip. I had some random parts in my subspace. If there was some wire, maybe I could…

/ _Hey, pal, you okay?_ / Bumblebee put a servo on my shoulder armor, and I realized that both mechs were looking at me with concern.

"Huh? Yeah," I mumbled. "Sorry. Spaced out for a klik. I was thinking about exploring these hills a little."

"Sure, why not?" Wheeljack took my arm and helped me up.

/ _Let's get our scout on!_ / Bumblebee chirped, and he took off for the hills ahead of us.

That was easier than expected.

We started after him. I transformed, but kept myself a ways behind. Wheeljack followed suit. He caught up to me so we were driving side by side. Good. It would take him a moment to shift back when I made a break for it.

When we'd passed into the maze of hills, I pealed away from Wheeljack—

"Whatcha doing there, pal?"

—and swerved around the base of the nearest one—

"Freeloader? Hey! Get back here!"

—then transformed and started running. All my time spent on the surface was a big help to evasion and covering my tracks, but once Wheeljack called in Bumblebee… scout would beat saboteur. I'd have to do this quickly.

One hill had a big, rocky overhang sticking out, and the hills around it provided coverage from all angles. I hustled into the sheltered area and scrunched myself against the deepest wall of the cave it formed.

Static was the only response when I pinged Breakdown's comm frequency. I tried again. Nothing.

Was his signal blocked? It couldn't be trouble on my end. I wasn't getting any error reports. This place was too far in the middle of nowhere to host signal dampeners unless the 'Bots…

Those slaggers. When had they gotten transportable dampeners? I should have heard of this—

A familiar voice broke through my brooding.

"Hello? Who's there?"

I jumped, hitting my helm on the rock above me. "Knock Out? What are you doing on Breakdown's frequency?"

" _Freeloader?_ " His tone shifted from annoyance to surprise, then to something like benevolent panic. "By the Allspark! Where are you? Never mind that, I'll pinpoint your location... What are you doing in Wales?"

"Knock Out." I spoke slowly, unnerved by the worry in his voice. "Why isn't Breakdown answering his comm? Did your frequencies switch again?"

Silence was his only response.

"Knock Out, what's going on?"

The swirling light of a ground bridge blossomed into existence at the opening of my hideaway. The medic stepped through. From the look on his face, I knew more was up than a change in comm links. I approached him cautiously.

"Knock Out?"

He bent over to check my plating and joints for damage, speaking in the brisk doctor voice he uses when he doesn't want to acknowledge something outside of work. "Well, at least you're none the worse for wear after all that time in their servos. You really should take better care of your pede tires, but that's nothing new. No signs of inflicted damage. Honestly, those Autobots are such soft glitches, I don't know how they've lasted this long…"

For once, there was no vitriol in his tone for our enemy. But what was going on with Breakdown? If something had happened to him, wouldn't it have been the Autobots to do it? It's not like he'd ever let humans get close enough again to snare him like MECH did. Not willingly, but… The thought made my fuel tanks clench painfully.

"What's…" I had to clear my intake and try again. "What's happened to Breakdown?"

He stopped talking and let go of the wheel he'd been examining. A klik passed as he opened his mouth and closed it again over and over, trying to find words, I guessed.

"Did MECH do something? Did they catch him again?"

"No." He spoke softly, slowly, as if the slightest exertion of his voicebox would tear it apart. "Freeloader… he's…"

" _No_."

"He's offline." Knock Out's servos clenched into fists. "Dreadwing brought him 'energon scouting' in Bolivia—really as backup to take out Airachnid per orders from Megatron. She turned the tables on them. Dreadwing says he was webbed down and... couldn't stop Breakdown from going after the eight-legged terror alone."

I felt like the ground had opened up beneath my pedes. He couldn't be gone. Breakdown was a constant. He was an anchor. Without him…

Airachnid was to blame. She would pay. I latched onto the idea.

"Where in Bolivia?" I asked quietly.

"South of a city called Tarija." He immediately seemed to regret answering. "Look, I see what you're thinking, and… I'm going to speak about it just once before dropping the subject entirely. _She will rip you apart_. Just like she did to Breakdown. Dreadwing saw the aftermath. Breakdown wouldn't want you anywhere near that glitch. He'd want you safe." His voice wavered. "You should have _seen_ him when you were captured. He—" Knock Out stopped himself. Coolant was welling up in his optics; he furiously wiped it away. "I've said my piece." He bent down to my level. "Listen to me. It's probably better that you don't return to the _Nemesis_."

" _What_?"

"Things aren't so good with the Decepticons. Lord Megatron is growing less stable by the day. Dreadwing isn't going to keep him in check, no matter what he thinks. And now that we've got _Insecticons_ on board, it's only a matter of time before most of the crew mutinies. You're safer on your own at this rate."

"What, as an Autobot prisoner?"

He hesitated. "Maybe. The 'Bots aren't going to terminate you, so it's better than most options. You should neutralize your Decepticon life signal as soon as possible."

"And you?"

He didn't answer, instead turning around and heading back toward the ground bridge.

"Knock Out!" I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. "Knock Out, Doc, please—" The gaze he turned on me now showed only irritation. I worked my intake. "You're not going to just… just _leave_ me here, are you?"

No answer. He pulled away from me with enough force to make me stumble back, and he disappeared into the bridge without a backwards glance. I managed to steady myself and tried to follow him through, but the bridge closed before I reached it, and I fell through the place where it had been, landing heavily on my arms.

I punched the ground in frustration. _What the_ actual frag _, Knock Out?_


	9. Verbindung

**Chapter Nine: Wheeljack**

"What the _actual frag_ , Freeloader?" I hissed, chasing after my escaping prisoner. When it became clear that I had lost him, I stopped running and sat down with a thump.

Bee responded to my comm immediately. / _What's up? You guys disappeared on me._ /

"He got away," I mumbled.

/ _Sorry, I didn't catch that._ /

I swallowed my pride. "He got away."

/ _Oh, for the love of—_ / I could hear his ex-vent over the link. / _Of course he did. Unlocking his transformation abilities, giving him freedom of movement… We were practically begging him to make a break for it._ /

"No, really? Just get over here and help me track him down, will you?"

/ _On my way._ /

Funny how the pede-shaped indents in the ground hadn't stood out to me until Bee pointed to them.

/ _Primus, you'd make a terrible scout._ /

"Shut up."

/ _Well, I'm no Wrecker, so it's a good thing we're teamed up. Cover each other's weaknesses and all that._ /

"Sure, whatever. Now, which way did the little punk go?"

/ _Tracks are headed east. Follow me._ /

Freeloader had picked a nice place to hide. I had to give him that. We could just barely see a speck of green plating from where we stood up on a ridge.

"Stay up here in case he runs again."

/ _If he's as smart as he's shown so far, he probably won't._ /

"You never know. He _was_ dumb enough to try hiding from you."

I headed down the slope to the sheltered area. When Freeloader came into full view, I hesitated.

The minibot was huddled against a wall under the overhang. He hugged his knees to his chestplate, staring straight ahead at the other side of the space. His visor was up, and something in the way his optics were glowing gave me pause about jumping him. Plating rattled with every sharp, heavy intake.

Maybe I should have had Bee come down here instead. Well, it was too late for that now.

I crept over to his hiding place and crouched down next to him. "Hey."

He cringed away from me, visor snapping back down into place. "Come to take me back? Or have you finally run out of patience?" His tone was scornful. "Might as well get it over with, right? But then, you 'Bots have a reputation for drawing these things out."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why would you want—"

"I miss them," he said quietly. "I—I miss _Breakdown_."

"Oh." I couldn't think of a good answer to that. Of course he missed his Decepticon buddies, whether he should or not. Those backstabbing, infighting scum were all he knew. Ugh. I hate dealing with this scrap. After a long moment of silence, I decided to move on. "You're not going to be offlined. Not by us."

"So what? It doesn't matter if I'm not going to die. I'm not going to go home, either. What's the point?"

And there it was. Home. I'd been stupid— _we'd_ been stupid—to think he could change sides. Little guy didn't have it in him. 'Con loyalty was practically in his base programming by now. And he'd rather offline than keep going.

 _What a glitched little—_

The heat of anger spread through my chassis from somewhere in my fuel tank.

"You want to know what the point is? It's _living_. You've been out on hundreds of battlefields. Thousands of them. You _know_ the toll this war has taken. You and me and the rest of the 'Bots and 'Cons on Earth? We're just about all that's left. I've traveled the universe for _vorns_ and _vorns_ and _vorns_ , searching for someone—anyone—I know, and the _one_ I found—he died that same cycle. And I _know_ you've lost people too. Everyone's lost someone by now. So tell me this: what makes you so special that you get to _choose_ offlining?"

Freeloader opened his mouth and closed it, a stunned look in his optics.

I shook my helm. "You disgrace everyone already gone when you think that."

"Then what _do_ I do?" he demanded suddenly. I was a little taken aback by the desperation in his voice. "When I've got nothing left in life, what do I live for?"

"You live for _them_!"

"...what?"

"You live for them," I repeated, softer this time. "Everyone you've lost. Everyone whose death meant that you lived a little longer. Everyone who did something to get you to where you are. It's your job now to... to do the things they won't get to do. To see this war through to the end, to see to it that they haven't fought for nothing. To bring about some kind of justice for them."

"Justice..." he echoed faintly. Something changed in his expression. "Yeah." He suddenly lurched forward and embraced my midesection. "Thanks, 'Jack."

' _Jack_. Hadn't heard that in a long time. Bulk always called me Jackie, but Breakdown wasn't one for "cutesy" nicknames. Heh. Guess Freeloader had picked up more than the Wrecker MO from him. Maybe there was hope yet.

"All right, all right, that's enough cuddling, or whatever you call this attack on my 'badaft warrior' image." I peeled the minibot off of my chassis and stood up with him. "Look, short stuff… I get the impression you're not really on board with the 'Con cause at this point. And I can understand wanting to stay in the place you first felt like you belonged in, but let me tell you from experience that sometimes that place changes to the point where you don't feel that way about it anymore. When that time comes, you just gotta move on."

He looked away from me. I put a servo on his shoulder.

"Keep thinking about it. Now come on; Bee's waiting for us."

Our scout gave me an odd look when we walked into his line of vision without having reactivated Freeloader's stasis cuffs. I shook my helm at him when he seemed about to say something.

"I think we've had enough of the outdoors for today," I said, nodding at our apparently exhausted prisoner. Freeloader had started leaning against me on the way up the ridge.

/ _You should probably get his cuffs back to the other setting._ / Bee said before activating his comm link. / _Hey, Ratchet, ready to bridge us back?_ /

In answer, the ground bridge opened in front of us. Bee glanced over at me.

/ _The cuffs?_ /

"Nah. He's not going to make any trouble."

Something in my tone must have convinced him. He dipped his helm in acknowledgement. / _If you say so._ /

"Enjoy your quiet time, Doc?" I greeted Ratchet as we stepped into the base. He made a _harrumph_ noise and returned to whatever he was doing at the communications array. "Well, okay then. Fair enough."

"Hey, Jackie!" Bulkhead yelled from next to the hall that led to the wash racks.

Freeloader tensed up against me, but I waved back. "'Sup, Bulk!"

/ _Are you gonna wash up, Bulkhead?_ / Bee asked, starting towards him.

"Yeah, you wanna give me a servo with—"

"Bumblebee!" Arcee stepped out of the habitation suite hall. "Good, you're back; you're coming on patrol with me now."

/ _Oh._ / He shuffled over to her side, and they both transformed before speeding out the base's exit.

"Guess we'll join you instead, Bulk." I nudged Freeloader ahead of me toward my friend. "We're pretty dusty ourselves."

Bulkhead hadn't spent a lot of time hanging out with the saboteur yet. It was probably Breakdown's influence that made Freeloader so stiff around him. If the little guy was going to switch sides, he'd need to get over his biases.

"Sounds good!"

My buddy didn't carry reservations anymore. Bulk isn't usually very forgiving, but he's got a huge soft spot for younglings, so it figures that he wouldn't hold Freeloader's alliance against him for long.

I really like the way that the base's wash racks are set up. Bulkhead, Freeloader, and I all fit into the space with plenty of room to move around, and the five shower nozzles are all positioned high enough for even Prime to stand straight and still get the full spray.

Bulkhead turned on two of the nozzles. I motioned Freeloader over to the bench positioned under one of them, then took a sponge and started helping Bulkhead clean out the plating he couldn't reach. With his proportions, there was a lot of it. As I worked, the grit in my winglet joints itched, making me flick the appendages in response to the irritation.

Another sponge pressed against my back suddenly. I turned my head and grinned down at Freeloader, who was standing on the tips of his pedes in an attempt to reach the afflicted joints.

"Thanks for trying, short stuff. It's the thought that counts."

He grimaced in response. "Very funny."

Bulkhead twisted around. "What's going on back there?"

"Freeloader couldn't resist joining the party," I answered and got a wet sponge to the face from the minibot. "Oho! Now it _is_ a party!" I took my own sponge away from Bulk's plating and squeezed it over my small attacker's head. He spluttered a protest.

"All right, you two, break it up!" Bulkhead cuffed me about the helm, but the wide smile on his face betrayed his amusement.

I shared a look with Freeloader. In unison, we threw our sponges at the bigger mech. He caught them and nailed us both in return. Then he dragged the bench Freeloader had been sitting on to a spot behind me.

"Need a boost?"

"Oh!" The minibot looked embarrassed. "Uh… yeah. Sure." He climbed up and started on my winglet joints, pausing for a moment to mutter, "Thanks."

"No problem." Bulkhead got back in front of me and let me continue digging gravel from the gaps in his plating. We all fell silent, letting the patter of the falling water take over as we focused on cleaning one another off.

"You're pretty handy with that sponge, short stuff," I commented after a switch of order that put Bulkhead to work on Freeloader's back plating as I flitted back and forth between them to scrub out their wheel spokes. "Takes most mechs a while to figure out how to reach those joints."

"Your winglets aren't too different from a Seeker's wings," he answered, squirming self-consciously in the blanket of solvent suds Bulkhead had lathered over him. "Just smaller and with different shapes, really. Getting at the joints isn't difficult if you know how to look."

"Spent a lot of time with Starscream, did you?" Bulkhead asked, pushing the minibot's bench until he was under the spray to rinse off his chassis.

"Nah. The Commander doesn't like to associate with us groundpounders. I used to have a secondary assignment to help out Hotlink and Bitstream with whatever they needed when I wasn't on a mission. You know, before most of the Seeker armada were offlined in the space bridge explosion."

Bulkhead ex-vented nervously. "...Yeah. Big explosion, that one."

"Mmhmm."

Silence again. The water noises were almost deafening. Or maybe that was the awkwardness. Either way, this bonding time was starting to veer off course.

I was about to interject some random question to get the conversation going again when Freeloader did it for me.

"Hey, Bulkhead?"

"Yeah?"

"What do _you_ do when you lose someone you care about?"

That was unexpected. I probably should have seen it coming after our talk earlier, but…

Bulkhead's optics widened in surprise. "Depends. I mean—"

"I'm not asking what you _should_ do," Freeloader interrupted, "just what you _do_ do."

He was asking for honesty, not idealism. Well, he'd come to the right place.

"I punch," Bulk said after a long pause. "I punch, and I punch, and I punch. Whatever I can reach. Until the feelings run out and my processor's clear."

"Do you try to get revenge?"

My buddy balked. "Well, I—that's not really—Autobots don't—"

"Oh, come _on_ , Bulkhead, this whole war's full of mechs to avenge. You can't tell me it's not the _Autobot_ thing to do—just look at your two-wheeler. Arcee. She's after both her partners' killers. I can't believe she hasn't managed to offline them yet. And Wheeljack, you came to Earth chasing Dreadwing, right? Would you have come all this way if it wasn't for some kind of revenge?"

I bristled. "He blew up—"

"—Seaspray, right? Aquatic alt? Ex-Wrecker? Habit of whistling before making an attack to unsettle his opponents? Probably didn't do much to help him in open space." Freeloader seemed to realize that he'd crossed a line. "Sorry. I mean, for bringing it up. Too soon and all that." His shoulders drooped. "Breakdown wouldn't like me talking about a Wrecker like that. Even Seaspray." A half-sparked chuckle escaped his vocalizer. "Or 'Barnacle Butt,' like he used to call him."

That piqued Bulk's interest. "Breakdown talks about the Wreckers?" It interested me, too. Bulkhead and Breakdown used a lot of the same nicknames for the Wreckers they weren't as close to. Funny how it stuck with him, even as a 'Con.

Shoulders dropped further, but Freeloader's voice was chipper. "Yeah! He told me so many stories about his time as a Wrecker, you'd think it was all he did in the 'Bots."

"Wasn't a 'Bot long enough to do much else," I muttered.

Two sets of optics, blue and red, glared at me. Figures they'd unite against me for this.

"Sorry. Still a little bitter, I guess."

Bulkhead reached out and switched off both spray nozzles. He avoided looking at either of us as he asked, "Does he… does he ever talk about why he left?"

Something flickered over Freeloader's face, but his answer was in a normal tone. "Yeah, sure. He got left behind after a battle, and a squadron of Vehicons brought him to their makeshift triage facility. Badge scraped away in the fight, see? Between that and his yellow optics, they figured he was a neutral caught in the crossfire. Anyway, the medic they'd brought in saved his spark, and the recovery period after that gave him a chance to see what the 'Cons were really about. I mean, the only difference at the start of the war was how each faction intended to oppose the Senate, right?" His smile reached his optics when he added, "Falling in love was a nice incentive, too."

"Falling in— _what_?" I couldn't believe my audials. "Wait, with who?"

"Knock Out," Bulkhead interjected. "Right?"

Freeloader grinned wider. "You hadn't noticed? I thought they were pretty obvious about being crazy for each other."

My buddy shrugged. "It was pretty muted on missions, but something seemed up. Makes sense, I guess. Was Knock Out the—"

"The medic who saved him? Yeah. 'Course, it was another couple of vorns before they got together, and I didn't meet Breakdown until a few vorns after that, when I was sent to Knock Out to have my fueling systems streamlined. And they only became Conjunx Endurae a little while before they came to Earth."

Bulkhead was taking this better than I would have expected. Then again, I guess part of being an Amica Endura is being happy about the other's happiness.

Though I really would have expected Breakdown's desertion to dampen that. Bulk sure hit the platonic severance button hard when he left.

Whatever. Time heals old wounds and all that scrap. They're definitely rivals, but from what Bulk's told me, it's still complicated. Makes me wonder if Bulk and I would be the same way if one of us were to change sides.

"—and that's when he decided to give me a combat lesson whenever our paths crossed," Freeloader was saying when I focused back on the conversation. The minibot was contentedly allowing Bulkhead to dry him off with one of the towels kept on a shelf by the door as he talked. "So I haven't known him more than half as long as I've been a 'Con, but he was still my best mentor figure, you know? I could always count on him to have my back when I needed it."

Something clicked.

"Hey, short stuff," I began, taking a towel of my own and starting to pat down Bulkhead's plating, "you're using an awful lot of the past tense. Why's that?"

Red optics cycled repeatedly before he answered, or at least attempted to answer. His vocalizer kept seizing up. "I, um... If I'm going to join you—you 'Bots, then that part of my life—as a 'Con—is—is over. I guess it—it just makes things—makes them easier to—to process? If I think about it that way, I mean." He got quieter as he went on, finally mumbling, "Breakdown would be furious that I even considered it, but…"

"C'mere, you!" Bulkhead swept him up into one of his piston-crushing hugs. "Little buddy, you go where your spark tells you, got it?" He rubbed Freeloader's helm with his knuckles, grinning. "We'll be happy to have you!"

"Yeah," I echoed him, "happy to have you."

The minibot was lying. Not as well as his Special Ops training would have taught him, but there was a lot of stress in his chassis. I could see it in the way his wiring flexed reflexively under his plating and in the way red biolights flickered.

I'm not sure what reason he had to lie, but whatever it was, it was taking up a lot of processor space. The little guy could barely string a sentence together for a moment there. He seemed in control of his expression now, though, so I wasn't likely to catch anything else. Better to just play along and give him some more openings to screw up.

Freeloader seemed to be… Cheered up? Encouraged? Whatever it was, our words seemed to have a positive effect on him. Suspicious as I was, that much struck me as legitimate. Guess I'd have to wait and see.

Once we'd all been dried off, Bulk challenged both of us to a three-way game of lobbing. Ratchet kicked us out of the main room after a few kliks, so we relocated to the garage by the main exit and continued lobbing for another breem before Bee and Arcee got back. Prime returned not long after that. He found the seven of us—me, Bulk, Freeloader, Bee, Arcee, Ratchet, and even Upwash, out of her cell, as was swiftly becoming the norm—gathered around the main room of the base, watching some human entertainment media that Team Prime had apparently been introduced to by their human government contact. They hadn't gotten far in the series yet, despite it more than an Earth lunar cycle having passed since the fleshie got them hooked. Shared free time was far from a common occurence for them, and according to Bulk, Ratchet had made clear what he would do to anyone caught watching ahead without the rest of the team. Between that and the rotating patrols and missions, they were only through the third episode as of tonight.

Humans in space cracked me up. Everyone else seemed to be taking it pretty seriously in spite of the ridiculous concepts the fleshies have of space travel.

The banter was pretty good, though. I was enjoying the action sequences and the jokes. A lot of the more organic concepts were flying over my helm, but from the looks on Ratchet's and Bee's faces, I geussed that I was better off not knowing.

Freeloader leaned in from his perch behind me to whisper in my audial. "What the frag is going on between the two fleshies there? I'm completely lost."

I shrugged. Upwash scooted over to answer him. Unfortunately, I was still within hearing range.

"Oh, that's just—" I began. Freeloader interrupted with his two shanix's worth.

" _Nasty_! Who would want—"

"—the most _disgusting_ thing—" I continued. The minibot added on.

"—to _watch_ it, let alone—"

"—organics are so—"

" _Gross_!" we finished together.

Bumblebee _beedle-beeped_ his most snicker-y snicker at the two of us.

Freeloader made a face at him. "Shut up, scout. How can you _stand_ being around those—those—" He frantically motioned, attempting to explain what he couldn't find words to describe about just how repulsive the fleshies now seemed.

/ _We're just as weird to them as they are to us,_ / Bee pointed out, unfazed.

Arcee walked by our little cluster on her way to brief Prime on the episode's events so far and smacked each of us upside the helm.

"Will you four be quiet?" she hissed. " _Some_ of us are trying to hear what's going on."

"Sorry."

"What 'Jack said."

"Ditto."

/ _Sorry, Arcee!_ /

She huffed through her vents and continued toward Prime, who had made the generous decision of allowing his team to start the episode before his arrival. The rest of us hunkered down when they returned to the group, unwilling to face Arcee's wrath, until the end of the episode.

"'S pretty late," Bulkhead noted, stretching his joints as he stood up. "Who's got monitor duty tonight?"

Ratchet raised a servo.

Upwash groaned. "You _always_ take monitor duty, Doc. When was the last time you got a proper recharge?"

He narrowed his optics at her. She rolled her optics at him. Now _there_ was a match made in the Well… or, more likely, the Pit.

"Upwash," he asserted, "I am the only one here not on active duty in the past week. Everyone is more tired than I am."

"Not me." Everyone stopped moving and stared at the 'Con scout. Upwash shrugged. "I've been on base all day too, and I recharge pretty much whenever I'm in my cell. I've got energy to spare."

"You're a _Decepticon_!" Ratchet spluttered. "By the Allspark, do you honestly think we would trust you for a _moment_ , let alone a full shift?"

Delicate flier pedes tapped out a nervous rhythm on the concrete floor. "About that," Upwash mumbled. "I, er… I was considering…"

" _Upwash_?"

"Look, Ratchet, it's hard enough to get the words out on my own! Will you shut up for a klik and listen?" Vents rattled in a deep intake followed by a slow ex-vent. "Okay. I'm pretty sure it's clear by now, if unofficial, that I'm not going anywhere. Here's the thing: I _like_ it here. I _like_ being a part of this team. I _like_ all of you—yeah, Arcee, even you—and I _like_ helping you. And I've been useful. I know I have. But I could be _more_ useful. I could scout new energon locations for when the old information is out of date. I could provide aerial support. I could _fight_ if needed. Do you... Primus, I feel like an idiot for even asking, but do you see where I'm going with this?"

Ratchet wasn't capable of responding with his vocalizer making staticky little _fzzt_ sounds instead of words. It was Prime who answered.

"I do," he rumbled. "You wish to become an Autobot."

I couldn't help grinning down at the nervously shaking minibot by my side. "Looks like she beat you to it, short stuff."

He made a rude gesture at me—ooh, the Ratchet Special, he'd been paying attention—and stepped up to join Upwash in front of Prime. His voice came out as a squeak, and the way his vocalizer kept skipping to a higher pitch made every statement sound like a question.

"Op—Optimus, sir? Prime? I want to join, too?"

I could hear Bulkhead quietly _aww_ ing behind me. I was busy trying to sift through the saboteur's behavior in my attempt to figure out what was an act and what was real. I never was much of a detective, but this mystery called to me.

Speaking of adorable, though, Prime's smile was ridiculously cute. For an imposing, charismatic leader of an army, Optimus Prime had a habit of making his subordinates weak at the knee joints with his aura of sweetness. No exaggeration necessary. Springer once told me that the Prime smile made him fall off the stage during his own Autobrand ceremony. It really happens.

"It is late in the day to handle the rites now," he said to the two 'Cons, "but I am pleased that you have both come to this decision." He paused before continuing. "Upwash. You have already proved your willingness to cooperate, and you have given little reason to doubt your word. I appreciate and accept your offer to handle monitor duty tonight while Ratchet rests." Ratchet grumbled something, but Prime was undeterred. "That's an order, old friend. Get a full night of recharge, or you won't be allowed back on duty tomorrow. Upwash, I trust you've seen enough to know how the monitors work?"

"Yes, sir!" She gave a snappy little salute, beaming.

"Good. Welcome to probationary Autobot status. You are excused."

As the flier skipped off to observe the monitors and Ratchet—followed by Arcee, who apparently had no interest in seeing how the other half of the discussion turned out—trudged down the habitation hall, Prime's attention turned to the minibot.

"Freeloader. You have not been with us as long as Upwash has, and your behavior over that short time has not been indicative of changing alliances. In most instances, it has been the opposite. It will take time to prove that you are sincere in your intentions."

"So what can I do?"

His anxious tone seemed to draw Prime's sympathy. That's not hard to do, considering the Autobot leader's soft spark.

"We can discuss it tomorrow. For now…" He turned to me. "Wheeljack, I am placing Freeloader in your servos. He may recharge in the bunker you've been assigned, if it's all right with you."

I nodded. "Sure, Prime."

"Good night, Autobots. Recharge well." Prime left without another word.

The rest of us followed suit. Bumblebee stopped to pat Freeloader's shoulder on his way to his own bunker.

/ _You're going to do great._ /

The minibot looked embarrassed. "Thanks."

I led Freeloader to the last bunker in the hall. "Here we go. I'll admit, I haven't really been recharging here. The _Jackhammer_ 's got more of a 'home' feel to it, but I guess I can get used to this as long as Prime says you need a handler."

"Gee, thanks." The sarcasm was strong in this one. He'd fit in just fine if joining the team really was what he wanted out of this.

I cracked a smile in spite of my trepidation. "You're welcome. Okay, short stuff, you take the berth on the far side. I'll take the near."

"Yessir." He climbed onto the berth I had indicated for him without protest and curled into a minibot ball. "Good night, 'Jack." The disappearance of the red glow on the wall indicated that his optics had gone offline.

"'Night." I lay back on the other berth—which just so happened to be between his and the door—and offlined my own optics.

Now wasn't the time for recharge, whatever our idealistic Prime thought. I kept still and listened for sounds of movement. If Freeloader was going to get up to something tonight, I'd know.

Almost a whole breem passed before I heard anything, but hear it I did.

Time to solve the mystery.


	10. Rächer

**Chapter Ten: Freeloader**

When I told the Prime that I wanted to switch sides, well, the thing was, I meant it. And that scared me. I lay on the berth in Wheeljack's room, thinking through the day's events, and pulled my legs closer to my chestplate when it became clear. I wanted to stay. The 'Bots made me feel cared for. And yeah, I'd been cared for on the _Nemesis_ , but… Breakdown was gone now.

The thought brought a fresh wave of grief crashing down on me. Breakdown was gone, and Knock Out had told me not to come back. So here I'd stay. Which wasn't so bad, really. Bulkhead hadn't been hostile at all once Wheeljack got us talking. Even when Breakdown came up, he was so… so _happy_ to reminisce about his former Amica. Now that I knew Knock Out wouldn't be willing to talk about, well, _anything_ , really, it meant a lot that there was still someone I could open up to about it. Not that I was going to do that any time soon. I had business to take care of first. Justice to bring about, like Wheeljack said. Airachnid was still out there. I'd find her and take her out. I'd rip her to pieces like she did to Breakdown.

First, though, I'd have to get access to the Autobots' ground bridge. I was lucky Prime had let me out of my cell. I had my alt, but no weapons. But if I could get Upwash to help me…

I realized that I hadn't heard Wheeljack move in almost a breem. _Showtime_. My optics onlined. I eased myself off of my berth, wincing at the scrape of metal across metal. The recharging Wrecker between me and the door didn't stir. I moved slowly, placing my pedes so that the tires in my heels touched the floor first on every step to muffle the noise.

The door presented a problem. It didn't require a passcode to get out, but it would make a pretty loud sound as it opened. I glanced back at Wheeljack. He was still out. I could risk it. Hopefully he was far enough into a recharge cycle that it wouldn't wake him.

No response came from my self-proclaimed "handler" to the rumbling of the door moving up on its treads. Thank Primus. I hurried out, hunching my shoulders at the sound of it rolling back down behind me. Well, that was one potential problem averted. On to the control center!

Upwash jumped in suprise when I tapped her hip. She whirled around, wings dipping into the threatened position. " _Freeloader_!" she hissed. "What are you _doing_ out here?"

"I need to use the ground bridge... _please_." I felt like the "please" wasn't enough to make up for my threats before, but I could explain to her later how my feelings about her betrayal had changed. For now, I just needed to get her on my side, whatever side that was. Currently, I supposed, it was the opposite of Airachnid's side. You know, 'cause I was going to offline that glitch. Speaking of which… "And I need you to deactivate my stasis cuffs the rest of the way. _Also_ please."

The flier glared down at me. "You've _got_ to be kidding me. You're trying to escape?" She paused. "Well, okay, it's perfectly plausible that you'd still be trying and that what you said to Prime was complete and utter slag, but why the _frag_ are you asking _me_?"

"Um… because you're the one with access to what I need? And you're—"

"On _probation_!" She flung her servos in the air. "Freeloader, you've just _barely_ started talking to me again as of _today_! And I'm guessing that was as a cover for this escape attempt! Which isn't going to work because, while you were busy scheming and lying through your denta about wanting to be an Autobot, I was being completely and utterly sincere!"

"Upwash, would you lower your voice, _please_?"

" _Hah_! As if!"

"You can berate me all you want, just do it _quieter_. Then hear me out," I pleaded.

"Fine." She lowered her volume. "You know what your problem is, Freeloader? You haven't spent enough time on the _Nemesis_ to know what the Decepticons have become. You're perfectly content to think that things are the same as they were at the start of the war: that we're freedom fighters liberating our fellow Cybertronians from a corrupt system; that our leader is a wise, capable, and honorable mech who intends to lead us to victory; that we are united and loyal to one another to the very end, all of that slag. Well, we're not. Not anymore. This war isn't about the old system anymore. It's about a vendetta. Megatron's vendetta. He's going _insane_. I could see it happening, even from a distance, back before I was captured, and I'm sure it's only gotten worse in the time since. And between him and Starscream and Soundwave, Decepticon high command is ridiculously unstable. Everyone on that ship is _doomed_. And you? You've got the same chance I have. The chance to get away from that and join a side that consistently triumphs, not through numbers or supplies but through the kind of things that keep mechs online. Good leadership, capable thinkers, strong links between teammates… That's why the Autobots are going to win. And I'm going to be right here when they do."

"Right here with _Ratchet_?" I couldn't resist the jab.

She looked away. "Maybe. I don't know. It's not important." She crossed her arms as she refocused on me. "All right, say your piece."

I reset my vocalizer before beginning.

"Okay. First of all? I've heard all that stuff about the 'Cons already today. From Knock Out."

" _What_? When did you speak to—"

"Earlier. Not important. The point is that he told me. The only reason I'm here and not on the _Nemesis_ now is that he said I shouldn't go back, since I had a shot at getting away."

Her optics cycled repeatedly in shock. "Wait, why would he—but if you could have gone—Knock Out's been looking after you for—and Breakdown, what would he—"

"Breakdown's dead."

"— _what_?"

The words were surprisingly easy to say now. They still hurt, but more of the pain was turning to anger each time I thought about it. "Airachnid killed him. That's why I need to get my stasis cuffs deactivated and use the ground bridge. Knock Out told me where she is. Well, roughly. Assuming she hasn't moved much since then. It's a slim chance, but it's all I've got."

"He's—she—" It was Upwash's turn to reset her vocalizer. "So you're going after her?"

"Yeah. Are you going to help me or not?"

Cue the conflicted expression. She was right to be uncertain. I mean, letting me out could get her in trouble. She seemed pretty serious about wanting to be an Autobot.

"Look," I said quietly, "I just want justice. For Breakdown. After that, I'll come back here. I promise."

"...How did she kill him?" There was a sharp edge to Upwash's whisper.

I ex-vented. "Knock Out said… He said she tore him to bits. It—it would have been painful."

Delicate servos clenched into fists. For a scout with limited weaponry and low combat capability, she looked downright dangerous.

"Hold out your servos," she ordered.

I complied. She unlocked and removed the stasis cuffs entirely before turning back to the console.

"Now, where is the murderous fragger hiding?"

"It happened in Bolivia, south of… Tarjita, Knock Out said. With an alt like hers, it's possible that she's halfway across the planet by now, but…"

"But it's your only lead. Fine. But first let me try something." She typed furiously for a moment. "If her Decepticon signal's been deactivated, it may still show up on an altered frequency. I accidentally discovered it when Ratchet and I were working to deactivate mine and looking for new energon signals at the same time." A blue dot flickered into life on the holo-screen showing a map of Earth. "There. If that's her, she hasn't moved too much. Maybe she's injured."

"Or maybe she's waiting for more victims," I muttered.

"There's only one way to find out," she replied, transforming out the blade in one of her forearms and entering a set of coordinates into the ground bridge's console. "Breakdown was my friend, too. If there's a chance we can bring down his murderer, we're sure as Pit going to take it, right?"

"Well, _duh_. Two against one improves our odds, anyway."

The ground bridge swirled into existence before us. I shared a look with Upwash, who raised her blade and did her best—and not very good—impression of either Optimus Prime or Megatron. I couldn't tell which.

"Transform and… Hmm. You roll out, I rise up?" she joked, attempting a grin over the cold anger radiating from her frame.

I nodded, processor too occupied with thoughts of Airachnid to return the failed banter. "Let's go."

We transformed at the same time and headed through the ground bridge.

The forest we appeared in was cloaked in darkness and silence. Tall trees loomed over us in every direction. It was the ideal hunting ground for Airachnid's dark color scheme and webbing tactics. The white parts of Upwash's plating almost glowed in the faint light from the stars above us, and my bright green paint job didn't fare much better. We were, as Upwash so eloquently articulated it—

"Slagged sitting ducks. As the humans would say." She groaned. "At least I placed us a ways from her signal. Maybe we can still sneak up on her… once the ground bridge closes."

As soon as she spoke those words, the ground bridge indeed closed, causing a thought to cross my mind. It bore repeating out loud.

"Hey, Upwash?"

"Hmm?" She seemed busy examining the organic growth around us.

"How are we going to get back to the base?"

"..."

"Oh my fragging—"

"Primus alive, Freeloader, calm down!" She paused. "I'll just call Optimus when we're done. He'll understand… I hope."

I twisted my tires back and forth, the alt equivalent of shaking my helm, while ex-venting in resignation. It was a little late to start planning this thing. "Whatever. Which way to the psychopathic spider-copter?"

"North. Follow me." Upwash took off, and I kept pace with her on the ground as she wove through the treetops.

The further we went, the more nervous I got. White strands of webbing seemed to gleam at me from every side. I had to remind myself to keep checking Upwash's position in the sky above me so I didn't get distracted. My comm link beeped at me, and I answered as I drove.

"Caught sight of her yet?"

"We're at the coordinates of her signal," the scout replied. "I can't see her, but she should be—" She cut herself off with a pained cry. I heard the clang of metal on metal first through the comm link and then from above.

"Upwash!" I yelled, turning off my comm link and transforming before leaping into the nearest tree and climbing upward in an attempt to catch sight of the aerial battle.

Upwash's biplane alt wasn't suited for a dogfight in the tree canopy, that was for sure. She wasn't doing a great job evading the treetops, and she couldn't pull up into the open air without making herself an easier target. Airachnid was hard to spot until I realized that she wasn't using her helicopter alt. She'd folded into spider mode and was jumping from tree to tree, shooting energon blasts and webbing at Upwash.

I reached into my subspace and pulled out the acid pellet gun I kept for ranged combat in place of having blaster mods installed.

"Hope this burns, you glitch," I muttered.

The first pellet flew wide and hit the next tree over from Airachnid's current perch. She didn't seem to notice me, though, and continued her branch-hopping pursuit of the flier. I lined up my next shot and squeezed the trigger again. This time, it splattered over her flank and made the metal there bubble and steam.

Airachnid whirled around. Instead of looking angry when she saw me, her expression positively _radiated_ self-satisfaction.

"Look who's come to join the Ex-Con reunion," she drawled. "Freeloader, isn't it?"

I shot again. She dodged it by jumping to the tree beside mine, still talking, her optics bright with amusement.

"You're Soundwave's little saboteur! Or you _were_ , I suppose, if you've been hanging around with Washout here. Dear, dear, what would _Breakdown_ think of that?"

"Don't say his name," I growled, firing another shot. This one caught one of her spare legs. She hissed in pain and shook away the acid that hadn't gotten into her plating right away.

"You know, he was _so upset_ when word got back that the Autobots had captured his little _protegé_. I rather think he was stepping on Soundwave's pedes for a while there in his attempts to find you, but that's all in the past now, isn't it?" Her voice was sickly sweet. She knew we knew what she had done, and she was _proud_. The spider-mech opened her mouth to keep going, but a white blur crashed into her from the side while her attention was on me.

" _Shut the frag up, you demented trophy-hunter!_ " Upwash transformed to her root mode mid-tackle, and they crashed down through the tree branches. Her blade was out, and she slashed at the mech beneath her as they fell.

I slid down the trunk of my tree as quickly as I could manage. The two had separated when I got to the ground, and they were circling one another from opposite sides of a clearing, gazes locked.

Upwash charged just as I transformed out my servo blades and took a stance. She swung at Airachnid, who twisted out of the way and snagged a bit of webbing on one of the flier's wings. The strip wrapped around Upwash's chest, pinning her arms and wings to her sides before she could react. She struggled, but the webs kept coming until she was thoroughly cocooned. That fragger was _fast_. I leapt at Airachnid, snarling. The spider-mech caught hold of my servo and used my momentum against me in order to throw me to the ground. She looped a ropy strand of webbing around Upwash, and, suddenly, the scout was hanging upside down from a branch.

I pushed myself back up on my pedes. Airachnid grinned at me.

"My, my, aren't you a glutton for punishment. But you'll have to catch me if you really want it!" She took off through the trees with a lilting laugh that scraped at my audials. I ran after her, ignoring Upwash's stifled yells behind me.

Airachnid twisted back and met me head-on before we'd gone a mile. "Why, Freeloader, what have I ever done to you to be met with such vehemence?"

"Smelt you," I hissed. "You know fragging well what you've done."

"Such _language_!" She slashed at me in a lazy fashion with one spindly leg. "But you know, memory fails me. You'll have to be more specific."

I grabbed the leg and dug my servo blade into it. She hissed in pain and pulled it back towards her, bringing me with it. I let go just as I reached her, and the force of the pull slid me between her legs to stand up behind her. Fine, I'd play her little game, just so it was obvious exactly why I was going to tear her up until only scrap metal remained.

"You killed him." I stuck my blade into another of her legs and dragged my servo down, rending the metal with a loud screech. Airachnid kicked out at me. I dodged, and she rotated herself to face me again.

"Oh, _Breakdown_. Of course. And that bothers you, little saboteur? What a strange Decepticon you are. Infighting is infighting, after all." She hooked an arm around my neck and pulled me in so that her mouth was by my audial. "Would you like to hear something _amusing_?" she whispered.

I kicked at her, pushing off her midsection until she had to let me go, but she slashed at me as I fell, leaving a long gash across my back plating. A pained grunt escaped me. I scrabbled at the ground to drag myself out of her reach, but she scooped me up with two of her legs and tossed me against a tree.

"I suppose I'll tell you anyway. It's a lovely irony."

Energon. Energon everywhere. How deep had she cut me? I managed to get back on my pedes just in time for the scorching pain of a shot from her blasters to wash over my shoulder. And she kept talking as she got closer.

"He did exactly what you've done, little saboteur. He _foolishly_ left his backup webbed to a tree and followed me to his dismemberment like... oh, what's that human term I found so clever? Right: a sheep to the slaughter."

She was looming over me now, and I almost offlined from the pain when she stabbed the pointed end of a leg through a gap in my armor to the tank below. Energon sprayed from the wound, glowing pink across her dark armor. She laughed again.

"I can't decide which method of offlining I like better," she said conversationally, ripping a plate from my arm and examining the energon dripping over her servo. "With Breakdown, I caught him in a bit of webbing and took him apart. I may have set a new record for speed. It was very fast, but no less painful, I should think. His screaming certainly gave that impression."

Another stab, this one tearing through my chestplate, missing my spark chamber by only a small distance. I screamed static.

"Yes, rather like that. Lovely sound. Anyway, in your case, I'm more in favor of letting the energon drain from your body. There's a kind of poetry to it: the siphoner becoming the siphoned."

 _Primus, no. Don't let it end here. Not like this._ " _I have—_ "

"What was that, Freeloader?"

I realized the last bit had been said aloud, coughed through the energon flooding my intake from the wrong direction.

"—I have—"

"I'm listening, sweetspark. Have you come up with some last words?"

"— _I have_ —" _I have to tell Breakdown I'm sorry I couldn't avenge him. I have to tell Knock Out he was right. I have to tell Upwash she deserves to be happy. I have to tell Wheeljack I'm sorry for—_

An explosion lit up the night. Airachnid's weight disappeared from my frame. I heard someone speak, low and threatening.

" _Get out of here while offlining you is my lowest priority._ " The sound of a heavy body skittering away reached my audials.

My vision was getting blurry as energon loss shut down my body, but the white paint and audial fins that came into view above me made my spark leap in recognition. I was lifted into the air and held against a warm chestplate. _Warm_ … My cooling frame instinctively curled closer to the source of warmth.

"I got you." The voice from earlier rumbled through my chassis. "You're gonna be fine, short stuff. You're gonna be fine."


	11. Gerettet

**Chapter Eleven: Wheeljack**

 _Keep calm. Gotta keep calm. Oh, slag, it's everywhere, he's losing it too fast—_

I held the minibot in my arms tighter—as if I could stop the cascade of energon from flowing out of his injuries through force of will alone—and hurried back the way I had come.

Halfway there, a muffled noise from above made me pause and look up. The mass of webbing around Upwash took only a moment to cut away with one of my swords. She dropped to the ground and pushed herself onto unsteady pedes, ignoring the energon leaking out of gashes in her legs and arms in favor of the minibot.

"Freeloader—oh, frag—Wheeljack, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let him—this is my fault, I—how did you—"

"I heard him sneak out," I answered, motioning with my helm for her to follow me. "The ground bridge controls still had your coordinates in them when I started after you two."

"Does anyone on base know we're out here?" she asked as we reached the spot where the bridge had dropped me. I stopped dead in my tracks. A wry smile slipped over her face for a moment. "You and I are too much alike sometimes. No wonder Ratchet gets so frustrated." She raised a servo to her comm. "I'll ping him and Prime. They keep their recharge linked into emergency comm frequencies."

While she concentrated, I looked Freeloader's injuries over. It was _bad_. He stirred in my hold as I used one servo to pull a wad of steel wool from my subspace and press it into the hole in his chest.

"... _'Jack_ …" Static filled his voice when he tried to speak.

"Not now, short stuff," I said gruffly. "Save your strength." The awful wound going down his back plating was beyond my limited field dressing ability. If I could just stop the energon from getting out there, maybe— _oh, Primus, on the other side—his tank—_

"... _'Jack_..." He wouldn't shut up. " _I'm… I'm sorry…_ "

"Apologize later," I barked, "when I can spend the rest of your life rubbing it in your face."

Upwash was pacing back and forth behind me, speaking rapidly into her comm. "Yes—yes—no—yes—"

The ground bridge spun to life in front of us. We dashed through to find Prime and Ratchet waiting for us.

"Lay him on the berth," the medic ordered. I set Freeloader where he directed and stepped back. As Ratchet got to work, I tore myself away and focused on Upwash, who was quickly welding temporary patches over her own injuries with a practiced servo.

"He won't let me help until I'm stable," she said in answer to the questioning look that I gave her. "Here, seal up this last patch for me."

The moment of work help ease my nerves a little. As soon as I'd finished, she hurried over to stand across from Ratchet and follow his orders as they worked on Freeloader. I watched from where I was, knowing that I'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

"Wheeljack." I turned around when Prime said my name, ready to be told off. He placed a servo on my shoulder, looking at me with an expression that was serious even for him. "It _will_ be all right."

I cycled my optics in surprise. "Yeah… thanks."

"I made the right choice when I placed Freeloader in your care," he continued. "You've shown me that tonight."

"But Prime," I protested, "this is _my fault_. I should have followed him sooner. Pit, I shouldn't have let him slip out at all."

"What's done is done, Wheeljack, and I have a feeling that this will lead to healing of more than just the physical variety."

"What do you... never mind." Cryptic, philosophical statements were kind of Prime's thing, after all. I wasn't sure that I'd want to hear his answer.

Prime seemed to follow my line of thought. He patted my shoulder before drawing away and heading down the habitation hall, calling back, "I will retrieve Bulkhead and Arcee for the day's first patrol. No need to crowd the med bay."

I sat on the ledge by the human catwalk to wait for Ratchet and Upwash to finish working on Freeloader. Kliks blurred into breems. At some point, Bumblebee joined me in a flurry of questions about the events of last night. I answered the ones I could and promised to make Upwash explain the rest when she was free.

Finally, Ratchet declared the minibot stable. He wiped the energon from his servos, cycled his vents, and rounded on the flier who had been assisting him in the repairs.

"What the _frag_ were you thinking, Upwash?" His volume rose with every word. "How could you betray our trust like this? Sneaking out of the base on your _first night_ as a probationary Autobot! Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you—"

"I know," she interrupted, speaking quietly and with no small amount of trembling in her voice. "It was stupid. Incredibly stupid. We're lucky to be _alive_ at all, and it's my fault for letting my feelings get the drop on me."

"Why did you two go out?" I asked.

Ratchet chimed in. "What made you allow this to happen?"

Upwash hesitated, hugging herself and looking down at Freeloader where he lay on the medical berth. "Freeloader wanted… You see, he… You know, maybe he should tell you himself. When he's better."

"Upwash…" Ratchet's tone held a warning.

She ex-vented. "It was a revenge mission. He found out from Knock Out yesterday that Breakdown was offlined by Airachnid. Knock Out told Freeloader where it had happened, and he wanted me to bridge him there so he could hunt her down."

/ _So why'd you agree to do it? And why'd you go with him?_ /

Wings jerked upwards indignantly. Red optics glared. "Breakdown was my friend, too, you know! He was _everyone's_ friend! I couldn't just stand there and let his killer get away, especially when I was able to help catch her. No one could. I used the frequency that Ratchet and I discovered to pinpoint her life signal, and we went after that backstabbing glitch together." She ex-vented, unable to hold her angry posture for long. "Well, you can see how well that turned out for us. She got the jump on me, and we tried to fight her as a duo, but she had me strung up faster than you could say 'Megatron's rusted undercarriage.' Freeloader chased after her, and there was silence for a while, and then this awful staticky screaming started far off, and Wheeljack ran past under me, too fast for me to get his attention, and then the screaming stopped, and then there was an explosion, which I'm assuming was Wheeljack's grand entrance—"

"Guilty as charged," I interjected.

"—and after that he walked under me, going the other way and carrying Freeloader, and I got his attention, and he cut me free, and you all know the rest. I'm sorry. It's my fault, and I accept full responsibility." She slumped down to sit by Freeloader on the berth, waiting for the verdict.

Ratchet cycled his vocalizer twice before speaking. "Upwash, what you did was reckless and foolhardy. But it came from a place of caring, and I cannot fault you for that. How this affects your future with us is up to Optimus, but for what it's worth… I'm proud that you've taken ownership of your actions."

I glanced over at Bee as Upwash embraced our medic. He shrugged. It wasn't our business what went on between them, right? _Right_.

"Now, let me treat those lacerations properly," Ratchet was saying, pulling the flier further into the med bay to sit.

Bee and I waited by Freeloader in silence. The scout patted my shoulder before leaving to go on patrol with Bulkhead, who stopped by on his way out to give me a quick hug and rub the powered-down minibot's helm. Even Arcee brought a cube of energon over and sat with me for a few kliks later in the day. Everyone seemed to be extra careful around me, like the med bay was a minefield and I was the sole remaining mine that might go off at any moment. I wasn't sure why they saw it that way, but I also wasn't sure why I hadn't moved from my place since sitting down the night before.

So Breakdown was offline. No one who knew had broken the news to Bulkhead yet. Prime was waiting to hear the full story until Freeloader could give his side, so we had agreed without having to discuss it that it should be left for when everything could be aired at once. I think it was mostly because no one wanted to see Bulk grieving just yet. It was going to be almost as hard a day for everyone else as it would be for him.

I sorted through memories in my processor, smiling at some and wincing at others. Breaks was a good mech. I'd let myself forget. He and Bulk and me: we'd had our moments. Trashing 'Cons, lobbing in the Wrecker base until Springer threatened to put us in separate brig cells, teasing Seaspray about the organic hangers-on he inevitably gathered on every mission… I'd taken it almost as badly as Bulk had when he left, to be honest. I'd just kept it inside. Bitterness wasn't the half of it. I _missed_ him. His desertion hadn't been my reason for leaving the Wreckers, but it may have been the start of that road I went down.

A slight movement in front of me caught my gaze. The minibot on the medical berth onlined his optics and looked around. The dim red glow brightened when his gaze landed on me. His mouth moved, but it took him a few tries to get any sound out.

"' _Jack?_ "

I winced at the still-staticky tone of his voice. "Hey, short stuff. How're you feeling?"

" _...Heavy. Kind of_ hurts... _almost_ kind _of hurts… 'sall_ fuzzy." He shifted to face me. " _Did she…_ get _away?_ "

"Yeah."

"Too _bad… you could've_ taken her..."

"Probably." I shrugged, but I was thinking the same thing. I wished I had had the time to take the fragger down, but… "I had more important things to do."

" _Like saving_ my _aft_?"

"Yeah. Important things like that." I got a tired little grin in response.

"Tha _nks_. _Fo_ r that." The static was clearing a little more each time he spoke, and he didn't look so exhausted anymore. Good.

"Just doing my job, short stuff."

One of his servos reached in my direction. Automatically, I took it.

"' _M s_ orry," he mumbled. "Shouldn't h _ave ru_ n off wi _thou_ t telling yo _u—_ "

"I know why you did it," I interrupted. "Upwash told me. It's okay. I get it. Pit, if I'd known, I might've gone with you two. Bulk definitely would've. Still might, when he finds out. What I'm saying is it's fine. Really, I'm not mad. I don't think anyone is, not even the Hatchet. I mean, we couldn't expect you to trust us, and we were just asking for something like this to happen when we—"

"No, no, I d _o t_ rust y _ou_." His grip on my servo tightened. " _Wha_ t I need to tell you is that I'm _sorry_ for lying all this time. It just—it was—"

"It's a 'Con thing. Shouldn't have expected anything different from you."

"But you _did_! You and—and Bee—and Bulkhead—and even Prime, you all _expected_ me to—to _see_ that—" His tone expressed helplessness as he whispered, "—that I want to _stay_. And—and I _do_."

I stared at him. He squirmed under my gaze and let go of my servo as though it had turned into a scraplet.

"It feels weird enough just _admitting_ it, okay? Do you have to make it awkward, too?"

"...Sorry. You're serious?"

He gingerly sat up, keeping an optic on the wires plugged into his medical ports.

"Yeah. I—I think I was kind of serious when I told Prime, too, but now I'm sure. It's like Knock Out said… there's nothing left for me on the _Nemesis_." His vocalizer skipped with a choking noise, and he cycled it sharply. " _Primus…_ there's _no one left_. Knock Out made that much clear, and—and— _oh, Primus, Breakdown's gone—_ "

Even with his visor snapping into place, I could see his horror and grief renewing from the way his jaw tightened and the way the red glow got brighter.

"Short stuff," I tried saying, not sure if I should reach out to him. Sparring the feelings away wasn't an option this time, not with his injuries. "Hey, short stuff. Come on, look at me. Freeloader, _look at me_."

His visor flicked back again. I almost wished it hadn't, because now I could see the pain in his optics. He'd had a rough, complicated time of the last two solar cycles. It was all pressing down on him, and the little mech wasn't equipped to handle it all without the mech he'd relied on for so long...

 _Frag it all_. I moved over to the edge of the medical berth and pulled the minibot into my lap, careful of the wires plugged into him. He latched onto me and buried his face in my chestplate. Oh, _Primus_ , he was _shaking_ now, and his vents hitched, and his plating rattled, and he _radiated_ loss. I wrapped my arms around his frame and pressed my chin on the top of his helm.

"I know, short stuff. I know." I'd never been any good at mourning, let alone comforting a mourner, but smelt me if I wasn't going to try my hardest. "That's it. Let it out. Keeping it inside isn't gonna help anybody." A thought occurred to me. "That was something Breaks used to say, wasn't it?" Freeloader nodded, helm scraping against my plating. _What else can I say?_ "I used to be friends with him, too, did you know? Sort of buried all the memories after he left, but…"

"You miss him, too." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I do. So you and me, and Bulk, once we tell him? We're gonna be each other's support struts, you hear me? We can remember him together."

"'Jack?"

"Yeah, short stuff?"

"Thanks."


	12. Fertig

**Chapter Twelve: Freeloader**

Recovery went faster than I'd expected. Airachnid did a number on me, but Ratchet wasn't the Autobot's Chief Medical Officer for nothing. Within a lunar cycle, I was back on my pedes and racing Bumblebee through the halls, lobbing with Wheeljack and Bulkhead, and sparring with just about anyone who'd take me up on it. I was getting a little restless in the base, but the _Jackhammer_ was fully repaired, and there was just one thing left that Wheeljack wanted to stay for before its departure. Finally, that day rolled around.

The day of Upwash's Autobrand ceremony.

Arcee, 'Bee, and Bulkhead brought their little human partners to the base for what was apparently the first time since my capture. They were nice enough for organics, but Arcee's partner kept shooting me suspicious looks, and Bulkhead's was infinitely curious. Actually, the latter was okay. Miko had an over-the-top, insensitive attitude, but I kind of liked the blunt honesty she spoke with. Bee's human was by far my favorite. Rafael was just so tiny—even for a fleshie—and unassuming in appearance, and that contrasted so hilariously with my mental images of the hacker Soundwave considered a rival that the human had my respect from the start.

The scout's excitement to introduce us to one another didn't hurt matters, either. He'd been prepping both of us for the last week at _least_. If he thought we'd get along, then who were we to prove him wrong?

We all stood witness as Optimus Prime spoke of the "new leaf" the flier had turned over. He spoke of her dedication to and belief in the Autobot ideals. He praised her contributions to their cause so far and charged her with continuing on her path as one of their own. We watched as she took the Oath of Peace, swearing her loyalty to the Prime and all he stood for, and we all applauded as he carefully affixed the shiny red badge to her chestplate. Ratchet would weld it on more firmly later. Apparently, among the Autobots, celebration came before follow-up duties.

I'd never been to a "party" before. At least, not like this. The Vehicons sometimes held ten-mech get-togethers on the lower decks, and Knock Out had once started a dance-off with Breakdown and a few drones in the med bay, but the _Nemesis_ just wasn't a partying kind of environment. When word got around to Soundwave, mechs scattered to all ends of the ship.

In sharp contrast, human music blasted from a set of speakers that Miko and Bulkhead had set up along one wall while everyone milled around, talking and laughing and dancing as if the war wasn't going on. Bee pulled me into the middle of the floor to "teach me some moves." Needless to say, I failed miserably. If Knock Out, Breakdown, and a squad of Vehicons couldn't put the rhythm in my pedes, neither could the scout.

He didn't see it that way.

/ _Come on,_ / he beeped, tugging on my servos, / _you can do it! We just have to find a style that fits._ /

"But—"

/ _Please try?_ /

Oh, those big, round, Autobot blue eyes. I caved like Knock Out confronted with new wax.

"Fine."

I still felt like I was making a fool of myself, but at least I wasn't the only one. Bulkhead, 'Jack, Upwash, and the three humans joined in, too. The dance-offs between Bee, Raf, 'Jack, and Arcee's human—who was also called Jack—got pretty intense.

Eventually the party started to wind down. I was drinking my energon ration on the sidelines when Wheeljack motioned me over to where he was speaking with Optimus Prime. I tossed back the rest of the fuel and hurried to join them. 'Jack patted my shoulder as I stopped next to him.

"Having fun, short stuff?" A little hesitation in his tone said he was trying to get a read on me about something.

"Yeah," I answered. "Are you going soon?"

"Yeah." He rubbed at the back of his helm, avoiding my optics. "Listen, Optimus and I have been talking, and…"

"I don't think I'm ready to get the Autobrand yet," I said quickly. "I haven't been with you all for anywhere near as long as Upwash has, and I've barely helped at all so far, but don't get me wrong, 'cause I do want to help—"

Prime smiled down at me. He dropped to one knee to get closer to my level. "Do not fret, Freeloader. You choose your own path and the pace at which you continue on it. We were merely discussing what your living options will be now that your assigned supervisor is departing again."

"Oh." I hadn't thought about how Wheeljack's leaving would affect me. "So… what _are_ my options?"

"You may choose to stay on base and be assigned a new supervisor, which Bulkhead has expressed his interest in should it become necessary, or you may—"

"Or you can come with me," Wheeljack interrupted. "On the _Jackhammer_. There's room for two mechs. If you want. Uh..."

I looked from him to the rest of the base. Bee and Raf were playing the racing game at the catwalk. Arcee and Jack were having a conversation with Ratchet and Upwash by the control center. Miko was demonstrating some form of musical instrument for Bulkhead. Everyone here, every Autobot under Prime, had a partner. And then there was Wheeljack. Really, the choice wasn't difficult.

"I want to go with 'Jack."

"You do?" Guess 'Jack really hadn't been expecting that.

"Yeah. Exploring Earth, getting into scrapes along the way, sounds just about right." I offered him my fist. "Wreck and rule, right?"

He bumped it with his own fist, grinning. "Wreck and rule."


End file.
